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Barking Poetry
My Best Friend NEW! The Queensland Dog Author unknown A stranger came from New South Wales, and he was tall and brown, He lined up beside us at the bar and sank his schooners down. And all the while, to pass the time, he told us doubtful tales Of the country he laid claim to, that remarkable New South Wales . With soil so rich and fertile, so ran his line of talk, That pumpkin vines fair sprinted along, as fast as a man can walk. He said it took two hours sometimes, to ride through the hollow logs, For the timber grew so thick and tall ..and then he mentioned DOGS! Little McGinnis spoke up then, arising from his seat, "I dunno about them other things, but in dogs we got ya beat" "I was boundary ridin' once," he said, "on a station out Longreach way, And lost me bearin's among them hills, right at the end of day. So I let the old moke poke along and find his own way in the dark, Until in the distance I saw a light and then I heard him bark. Well, station dogs are mostly noise, I never took no heed, I only wanted me bearin's, and I could have done wiv a feed. So I went on ridin' towards the light, just followin' me nose, And then I heard him bark agin and this time he's up close! I needn't 'ave worried, he's only a dog, the kind the cockies keep, That chase the Dingos away all night, then lay all day and sleep. When we gits nearer 'e whines a bit, friendly and quiet and deep. Then he stands on his hind legs to lick me face, and I see his gentle eye, and his dusty coat and wagging tail by the starlight in the sky. And the horse I was sittin' on was seventeen hands high!" The stranger paled and admitted, with the wind took out of his sails, That dogs do grow bigger in Queensland than they do in New South Wales!  FIRE!!!!! Oh the dogs they had a meeting, they came from near and far. Some dogs came by motor bus, some by motor car. On entering the meeting hall, each dog could take a look Where he had to hang his tail, high up on a hook. Now when they were assembled, each canine son and sire, Some dirty Bulldog son of a bitch jumped up and hollered "FIRE". Now all was in a panic, 'Twas hell upon to look, Each doggie grabbed at random a tail from a hook. The tails were all mixed up which made each doggie sore, To have to wear another dog's tail he'd never worn before. And that is why until this day a dog will leave a bone, To run and smell another dog's tail to see if it's his own. A BOY AND A DOG By Marty Hale I want my boy to have a dog, Or maybe two or three... He'll learn from them much easier Than he would learn from me. A dog will show him how to love And bear no grudge or hate; I'm not so good at that myself But dogs will do it straight. I want my boy to have a dog To be his pal and friend, So he may learn that friendship Is faithful to the end. There never yet has been a dog Who learned to double-cross, Nor catered to you when you won Then dropped you when you lost. The Heelers Lament Author Unknown I am only a back-yard dog, I am sure you will agree I'm cheaper than a security door That's why these folks have me I never get out for a walk, I'm fed on table scraps. My water bowl is getting low, They'll fill it up-perhaps. I bark when people come around, To frighten them away. I know I can't get to the front, And so, I'm sure do they. My parents both were cattle dogs, From Queensland way they came, They worked the mobs in heat and dust, I'd like to do the same. There is no joy in this back-yard, At times it makes me spit. To think I'm doing solitude, For a crime I didn't commit! Tale of a Brood Bitch Author Unknown You buy a bitch, a winning thing' And make her a champion in the ring. She's sound, she's lovely, dysplasia free, You want to breed her carefully. Taking lots of time, you look around, The stud ,ust be both typey and sound. You study the pedigree 'till blind, Building the litter in your mind. Several possibilities appear. You write back "My dog's the best" Although the stud fee's out of sight, You breed the bitch, the die is cast. The next nine weeks don't go fast. Of course, she whelps in the middle of the night. With luck and care it turns out right. The next eight weeks you fret and strain, Feed and scoop in driving rain. You take care with the homes they get. This one is a show dog, this one a pet. New owners call with problems dear, You're on the phone for half a year. AT LAST, the moment you've longed to know, Your pups have come to their first show. They all look fine, not one's a dud. Then from behind you comes .. "WOW - WHO'S THE STUD ???? Lament of a stud Author Unknown My job is making puppies, and I get two tries at that. They pat me on the head and say "good boy" - and that's that. It's half my job to give 'em teeth and toplines, fronts and other. Remember, it's only half my job. They also have a mother. It's not my job to carry pups and make 'em grow and nurse 'em, And feed and clean and make 'em strong, that's for Mother and a person. It's not my job to wean and feed the calcium and food. And stack and gait and housebreak and make 'em a showing brood. It's not my job to plan the breeding and learn what produces well. To study pedigrees, learn what's there and pick out what to sell. It's not my job to guarantee champs, the breeder picks the pair. To mate and whelp and feed and show and HOPE the champ is there. It's not my job to be on hand when points are given out, The breeder, owner, Dam and friends take credit with a shout. It's not my job to deliver a winner, it's only genes I sell. But let the puppies turn out BAD and guess who catches HELL!!! Above Poems Submitted by John Chandler Secretary, Australian Cattle Dog Social Club of North Queensland. ............. Barking Buddy Cheryl Semones 10/9/98 My little barking buddy is taking me for quite a ride, he runs like a windy day and refuses to stay at my side, but this little blue heeler has taken my heart and there is no place i can run, no place i can hide. My little spotted puppy, his nose to ground. tracking cats, chipmunks and squirrels the critters that don't want to be found. He disobeys, and pulls away, and hates it on his leash. And is so much like his owner that it makes it hard to know, if this dog is trainable at all, only time will show. cs 10/9/98 By Cheryl Semones 10/9/98. Check out Popeye's kennel ............. Your Friend. (Anon) Perhaps you think I do not earn My board and all my keep. But who gives you security When you are fast asleep? Who, when the master's out of town keeps beggar folk at bay, And gives you sweet companionship When you're alone all day? With every bark and loving sign, Let me be yours and you be mine. Love me, train me, let me be, Your closest friend eternally. ............. Ralf Behind the rocking chair Ralf chews Between his polished teeth is a hoof At the sound of his name he twirls his tail Up on his feet he bounds to me Inside his eyes are shiny with light Upon his hind legs Ralf jumps in greeting With mirth he licks my face Against my cheek his tongue is wet and soft On the command Ralf Sit! He barks in excitement As I gently push down his rump By Prudence Katze ............. The Cry of The Wolf Wild and free, a spirit passing, Roams the forest and travels the mind. Strong willed, strong at heart, Protector of the wild and free. Statue of honor perched atop a mountain, Eyes focused on everything around. Sounds in the distance, always ready. Guides the young to safety. The cry of the wolf, Cries out warning and joy. Moves within its territory, Silent and sleek. A vision of courage, A will to survive. ~GravyDave~ GravyDave © June 1998 Read more of GravyDave's poetry at http://home.att.net/~GravyDave/index.html A Dog's Prayer Author Unknown Treat me kindly, my beloved master for no heart in the world is more grateful for kindness than the loving heart of me. Do not break my spirit with a stick, for though I lick your hand between the blows, your patience and understanding will more quickly teach me the things you would have me do. Speak to me often, for your voice is the world's sweetest music, as you must know by the fierce wagging of my tail when your footstep falls upon my waiting ear. When it is cold and wet, please take me inside, for I am now a domesticated animal, no longer used to bitter elements, And I ask no greater glory that the privilege of sitting at your feet beside the hearth. Though had you no home, I would rather follow you through ice and snow than rest upon the softest pillow in the warmest home in all the land, for you are my God, and I am your devoted worshipper. Keep my pan filled with fresh water, for although I should not reproach you were it dry, I cannot tell you when I suffer thirst. Feed me clean food, that I may well, to romp and play and do your bidding, to walk by your side, and stand ready, willing and able to protect you with my life should your life be in danger. And, beloved master, should the Great Master see fit to deprive me of my health or sight, do not turn me away from you. Rather hold me gently in your arms as skilled hands grant me the merciful boon of eternal rest...and I will leave you knowing with the last breath I drew, my fate was ever safest in your hands. Submitted by Rocky the Bull Terrier
Shootin' Through Heather Churchill They shoot past, As they run fast. Exspeshaly ZAK who don't come back. They both shoot past, Me at last. But as they all ways say , ''You wont chatch em today''. I leep in mid air flight, As i try catch Leroy who's out of sight. I tried to catch him, Even lach him. But they just fly throug. My arms they do, My arms, my feet,my legs all too, But still they all run right strait through. I sat down to rest from trying to catch them, And up they come with two dead hens. So off i go all over again, To try and get em in there pen. But this time they run super fast, Because up behind them, is my next door nabour shooting his gun, And one just missed the two dogs bum.
My best friend Jeremy Lloyd Save for the humming of the bee's And raindrops falling through the trees, The wood was silent as a grave Whilst shafts of sunlight made a brave Attempt to pierce the velvet gloom As lonely as an empty room Alone was I but not afraid The friend I'd been with must have strayed, For tho' I called, no answer came And so I played a splendid game In the bracken wet and thick With my favourite walking stick And then a voice called out quite near: 'So there you are, old chap, come here' And sitting there, upon a log Was my best friend, who said 'Good dog' Submitted by Catherine
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