On a log sits a dog, and he waits for his man
To come back and untie him - this stick with a rope
That's behind him. That rope tied around his dog neck
Feels unnatural, yes. He does kick and does scratch
At the skin underneath that dang rope, but you see
It does not alleviate his bad itch from the twine,
The torn scraggly old bit of chewed rope on his neck,
So he waits oh so patiently for his old man
To come back, let him run 'mongst the dogs in the park
Like they did 'fore his man had a falling out with
His old woman that month so ago. Ah his man
Has not been at all like the so happy lil' man
He was like in the time all before his heart fell,
And this was the first walk he had taken his dog
On for quite a long time. It's been two and a half
(or about, for a dog does not know quite how time
seems to work) long long hours since the dog has e'en seen
His old man. The dog sits, the dog waits, the dog pants.
As the wind rushes through his soft fur, a bit cold
(not quite like it a-was like before), the sad dog
Does begin to think that his good master may not
Ever come to relieve his neck from itchy rope.