When ye wag y'r tail an' yelp, a-snoozin' Clus t' the fire this froze-up weather, 'Sy'r dreams to comin' times a-cruisin' Er back to them 't we've had together? Which is 't, ol' dawg? Good times we've had, an' many on 'em, No man an' dawg 't I know's had more; We've got's much fur as any on 'em, 'N' of ri' daown fun as big a store— Han't we, ol' dawg? Sen' fust I took to guns an' huntin', A many dawgs I've raised an' had; But I can say withaout no stuntin', Though more was good 'n the' was bad, You're best, ol' dawg. If we could live to be a hunderd, In everlastin' Injin summer; 'N' I never missed 'n' you never blundered, We'd stan' aside for some new-comer, Most willin', dawg. But twelve year ol', an' deaf's a post, Blind of an eye, an' rheumatizy; You'll go in tew three year at most, Leave me 'n' the gun, wi' naught to busy, Withaout no dawg. I will say this, if nothin' stronger, Though findin' fault wi' Natur' 's wrong, I wish 't dawgs' lives's a leetle longer, Erless men's lives wa'n't quite so long; I du, ol' dawg. |