Damned Old Dog
Tim Tufts
When that chilly old blue norther tears the colours from the trees
And the flight birds get the urge to up and leave
It’s then I’d get the boots oiled and shoulder up the gun
It’s then you’d get your youth back and remember how to run
You were always much too headstrong casting out for far too long
Full of notions and a will that would not bend
But your casts seemed to grow shorter with the evening coming on
Smell of gun oil, smokey whiskey, and a wet dog at days end
The spirit was too eager and the hound was just too old
The freeze came on to early and you couldn’t take the cold
I was down to one of our old haunts out back the other day
Now I’m wishing it would snow enough to take your tracks away
I still see you in the morning when the frost cuts through the air
I still smell you when the dampness fills the room
I remember how I cursed you cleaning mud off of my chair
And I cry to think they took you home away from me so soon
There were times you’d work so pretty that you’d please most any eye
Then there’s times I’d almost bring about your end
Now the sun’s gone down the fire’s gone out the bottles nearly dry
And that damned old dog has done me once again.
To Danny and all the other great ones I’ve had the privilege to know and love over the last 65 plus years.
TT
