A WORKING DOG
I’ve seen the Rocky Mountains And the Gulf of Mexico. The California Surfers and palm trees in a row.
I’ve read the works off Shakespeare, and seen Picasso’s paint. The sounds of concert pianists And heard the bagpipes quaint.
And all of these have trilled me, but not one could compare With watching herding dogs a-working, A single or a pair.
There’s magic in each movement That Mozart never had And beauty in each turn, That makes my heart feel glad.
There’s science in each answer Of every whistled tone, That Newton never thought of Nor ever was he shown.
There’s feeling in the handling That only poets know, Or men that work with stock dogs And feel the teamwork grow.
Wherever life may take you In sunshine or in fog, You’ll never quite forget it When once you’ve worked a dog
Author Unknown
I’ve seen the Rocky Mountains And the Gulf of Mexico. The California Surfers and palm trees in a row.
I’ve read the works off Shakespeare, and seen Picasso’s paint. The sounds of concert pianists And heard the bagpipes quaint.
And all of these have trilled me, but not one could compare With watching herding dogs a-working, A single or a pair.
There’s magic in each movement That Mozart never had And beauty in each turn, That makes my heart feel glad.
There’s science in each answer Of every whistled tone, That Newton never thought of Nor ever was he shown.
There’s feeling in the handling That only poets know, Or men that work with stock dogs And feel the teamwork grow.
Wherever life may take you In sunshine or in fog, You’ll never quite forget it When once you’ve worked a dog
Author Unknown
