"My Ole Dawg Clyde"
I couldn't have been more than six years old
or maybe even five...
When I got the urge to go on a hunt'n trip
just me and my ole dawg clyde.
Now ole Clyde could tree most anything
if you give 'em 'bout half a chance.
We'd head out for our favorite hunt'n spot
and that's where most of our time was spent.
We'd hunt squriels, rabbits and things like that
sometimes we'd even hunt Bear!
Grandma would step out back now and then
just to make sure we were still out there.
She'd call out, "Are ya'll ok?"
And I'd answer back, "Yes Mam!"
Then she'd turn and go back in the house
and I'd hear the ole screen door slam!
One day ole Clyde pick up a sent of some kind
and took off down a cotton row...
I just stood there and listened to e'm bark
'Cause he was really put'n on a show!
I first thought he was track'n a Rabbit
'cause he would double back ever now and then
Sometimes he would run clean out of sight
and I'd whistle 'em back to me again.
At night he would sleep up under the porch
where he'd wollered out a hole in the dirt
If it got real cold I'd fix 'em a box to sleep in
with two or three of my old shirts.
He would bark and growl if someone came up
but I never did know 'em to bite.
But let a strange dawg come up with me in the yard
and ole Clyde would be ready for a fight!
He got his leg broke and lost one eye
from a car chas'n accident
And from that day on he just layed around the house
and we never went hunt'n again!
Gary Reynolds (AKA) dr_tigger
"Poor Boy" ©2005 email@example.com All rights reserved
January 21, 2005