After the Million Paws Walk John Mackay reminded us of this poem this morning on my radio program.
We had to clean it up on the radio, but I can give you the unedited version this morning.
Oh, some they came by aeroplane
And some by motor car.
Oh, hardly were they seated there,
Each mother, son and sire,
When a dirty little yeller dog
Began to holler ‘Fire!’
Out they rushed in panic,
They didn’t stop to look;
Each dog just grabbed an arsehole
From off the nearest hook.
And that’s the reason why you see,
On walking down the street,
Each dog will stop and swap a smell
With every dog he meets.
And that’s the reason why a dog
Will leave a good fat bone
To go and smell an arsehole
In hopes to find his own.