I am a lucky dog, I know, and all my friends agree
The people that I live with now are good as gold to me
Because three times I saved a life--and that is why they give
Me everything a dog could want--and will, while I shall live.
But I've a conscience, and I must
Confess the truth--or else I'll bust!
One day the cart that Bobbie drives ran up on pony's heels,
And off he bolted! I went, too, and mixed up with the wheels,
Until the cart came to a stop, and Bobbie-boy was saved--
Then folks wept o'er the noble way that I, a dog, behaved.
(The truth is, I got in that mix
Avoiding pony's vicious kicks!)
Another time, when Bobbie went to play out on the dock
He fell into the water there, (he'd stumbled on a block);
I sprang in after him, of course, and dragged him back to land--
Then everybody said the way I acted was "just grand."
(The rat that I was chasing when
I plunged, I never saw again!)
You see this stubby tail of mine? I got that when a car
Came near to crushing Bobbie-boy--it gave us all a jar;
I knocked him off the track in time, but one wheel caught my tail
And cut it short; it hurt, of course, and I let out a wail--
(The cur that I had hoped to fight
Across the street, was out of sight!)
So, though I haven't meant to be a noble brute at all,
I have to take the praise they give, and hear them patiently;
But there is comfort in this thought--although it may seem small--
There are some human heroes who are "posing"--just like me!