04 March 2006

The Piddling Pup

Certain recent, and rather smelly events make this topical. Author unknown.

A farmer’s dog came into town,
His Christian name was Rex,
A noble pedigree had he,
Unusual was his text.
And as he trotted down the street,
‘Twas beautiful to see,
His work on every corner,
His work on every tree.

He watered every gateway too,
And never missed a post,
For piddling was his specialty
And piddling was his boast.
The City Curs looked on, amazed,
With deep and jealous rage,
To see a simple country dog
The piddler of the age.

Then all the dogs from everywhere
Were summoned with a yell
To sniff the country stranger o’er,
And judge him by his smell.
Some thought that he, a king might be,
Beneath his tail a rose
So every dog drew near to him
And sniffed it up his nose.

They smelled him over one by one,
They smelled him two by two,
And noble Rex, in high disdain
Stood still till they were through.
Then just to show the whole shebang
He didn’t give a damn,
He trotted in a grocery store
And piddled on a ham.

He piddled in a mackerel keg.
He piddled on the floor.
And when the grocer kicked him out,
He piddled through the door.
Behind him all the city dogs
Lined up in instinct true
To start a piddling carnival
To see the stranger through.

They showed him every piddling post
They had in all the town
And started in, with many a wink,
To pee the stranger down.
They sent for champion piddlers,
That were always on the go.
Who sometimes did a piddling stunt,
Or gave a piddle show

They sprung these on him suddenly
When midway through the town;
Rex only smiled and polished them off,
The ablest, white or brown.
For Rex was with them, every trick,
With vigor and with vim.
A thousand piddles, more or less,
Were all the same to him.

So, he was wetting merrily,
With hind leg kicking high,
When most were hoisting legs in bluff,
And piddling mighty dry.
On and on, Rex sought new grounds,
By piles and scraps and rust,
Till every city dog went dry
And piddled only dust.

But on and on went noble Rex
As wet as any rill,
And all the champion city pups,
Were peed to a stand still.
Then Rex did freehand piddling,
With fancy flirts and flits
Like “Double Dip” and “Gimlet twist”
And all those latest hits.

And all the time, this country dog,
Did never wink or grin.
But piddled blithely out of town,
As he had piddled in.
The city dogs conventions held
To ask, “What did defeat us?”
But no one ever put them wise,
That Rex had diabetes.

And that's the way I likes it.