Performing: The Last Dog We Will Ever Have
Date: Jul 30 2011
Location: Wine and More in downtown Sedalia
THE LAST DOG WE WILL EVER HAVE
There was no telling Ringo that this would be his last ride,
We knew the day was coming, but there were tears we could not hide.
His quality of life had sunk extremely low
But even in his prime, he was no best in show.
His mother was a schnauzer-he had her looks and sense,
His father-just a vagabond who’d jumped the backyard fence.
He could chase his tail to the left in the tightest little curl,
He could circle to the right as well-like downunder toilets swirl.
As a pup he liked to hump yer leg, just for kicks and grins,
But he wasn’t fit to procreate, so he’d lost his dangling “twins”.
Even though he was a mutt, he was sure one of a kind,
But now he had just one eye, and that was nearly blind.
He had the Diabetes, and for three years we gave him shots,
His coat was getting ratty and had left a few bare spots.
He was pick of the litter, but did not bond with his first master,
We got him “second hand”, but couldn’t fetch him any faster.
Now how you name a dog is a most important thing
We had just been married, so to Connie went “the ring”.
For dog folks out there, you know how a dog becomes a part,
Of every second of your life-your house, your home your heart.
But as a dog’s years go-they say they’re multiplied by seven,
Old Ringo’d run his race and it was time for Doggy heaven.
As the Vet gently did her work, there was not one dry eye,
His suffering had ended and his spirit was free to fly.
It’s a mighty empty feeling heading home without your pet,
You wait and hold the door for him-its like you can’t forget.
Then you swear you’ll never buy or take another dog or bird or cat,
You’ll be happy with the memories-and live out your days with that.
Then one day yer just a ponderin bout a perfect designer hound,
But you’re sure that what you have in mind-cannot be made nor found.
And perchance you meet a gal who tells of her newest jewell,
He’s smart, won’t shed, and hardly barks, and makes a quite small stool.
He’s hypoallergenic, loves kids and cats and just belongs,
Doesn’t matter where you need to go-he just wants to go along.
He’s loyal and courageous and cute as a little bug’s ear,
He’s two toned color, smiles a lot and no inbred diseases you must fear.
So we fired up the internet just to take a look around,
Just browsing for fun you know, not serious bout any hound.
The world wide web starts thinking and might take you any place,
Then it pops up a picture-and you’ve been had by his little face.
It’s a profile shot, he’s standing proud and looking out a window pane,
Somehow you know in that split second, your life won’t be the same.
Your hand is moving quickly as you reach to grab the phone,
Is he, I wonder, still for sale, or has he already found a home?
It rings times seven, you wait, and at last they do pick up,
You kindly introduce yourself and then inquire about the pup.
The Aussie terrier you saw comes with shots and a snub tail,
Hes’ the very last from the litter, but yes, he is for sale,
Now we always had a rescue dog, or mutt or one found half dead,
This might be our first that’s registered, bona fied and well bred.
But he’s had a little training, and he comes with leash and collar,
And given that he’s papered, that’s seven times dog dollar.
But my wife will not be fazed she just took him in a flash,
So we dig into the pig bank to clean out the collected stash.
She flies into the pick up truck, takes my cash and takes my phone
Its off three states away for her and I have to hitch hike home.
By the time they hit the county line, he has a name, a coat and bone,
He’s named for our Icelandic lad-our AFSer Stone.
She turns into the driveway with little “stoney” close at hand,
I can see I’m just a back up now in the grand old family band.
There’s a glow of satisfaction that’s just etched upon her face,
I know I’m second fiddle as she escorts him round the place.
But he’s everything they said, for sure, and maybe a bit more,
A nearly perfect canine, and he helps with every chore.
Lil’ Stone needed “learnin” to prove he was no fool,
He was the smallest freshman at Pettis County Canine School.
He bonded with his class-caught each dog’s undertail aroma,
And after only two detentions, he was granted his diploma.
We made a special staircase to climb into the bed,
His place is at the foot but quite soon he’s at the head.
He wiggles and turns and circles till he settles into his place
My wife gets his head ,but his bottoms in “my space”.
His snores and growls and sighs make for a nighttime medley,
His extra nocturnal offerings are silent but their deadly.
He’s best friends with the barn cats and the sled dog from Alasker,
Would my bride give up this dog, well I’m sure not gonna ask er.
Where ever she goes he goes too-just every little trip,
Folks might begin to worry that they’re joined up at the hip.
He gets chew treats from Montana and vitamins at night,
She brushes his teeth daily-to keep his smile so bright..
He sings, he twirls, he’s on the go, he gives those backward glances,
If it comes that it’s the pup or me-frankly I don’t like my chances.
She takes him to the grocery, the bank and to do her hair,
If she could find a way at work-I’m certain he’d be there.
He goes in any weather-be it sunny or in cloud,
The only place he doesn’t go-dogs just are not allowed.
Maybe when I’ll old and worn and my life is getting stark,
I’ll get pampered like that dog-if only I can learn to bark.
For just like dogs and cats and friends there is one thing we know,
Enjoy each single day with them-we can’t pick their time to go.