LAMENT OF A STUD DOG
-Author unknown-

My job is making puppies,
and I get two tries at that.
They pat me and tell me "Good Boy"
and that's the end of that.

It's half my job to give 'em teeth
and toplines, fronts and other.
Remember, it's only half my job --
they also have a mother.

It's not my job to carry pups
and make 'em grow or nurse 'em.
And feed and clean and make 'em strong.
That's for "mother" and a person.

It's not my job to wean 'em
and feed calcium and food.
And stack and gait and housebreak
and make 'em show or brood.

It's not my job to plan the breeding
and learn what produces well;
To study pedigrees, learn what's there
and pick out what to sell.

It's not my job to guarantee champs,
the breeder picks the pair.
To make and whelp and feed and show
and hope that champ is there.

It's not my job to be on hand
when points are given out.
The breeder, owners, dam and friends
take credit with a shout.

It's not my job to deliver a winner,
it's only genes I sell;
But let those puppies turn out bad,
and guess who catches hell!

||  GO BACK ||