Much more than a mate

Hidden in the misty Scottish highlands

where the purple bells of heather gently sway,

lies the ancient wellspring of our rich endowment,

that lives in you, my faithful friend, today.

 

On a journey marked by love and dedication,

two centuries our fathers walked with you,

from the frosty fields of  northern habitation,

to the land of searing sands the Dingoes knew.

 

And your seed was sown with sound deliberation,

as your purpose here on Earth was well defined,

for the harsh new land demanded high distinction,

sought the best of all, together in one kind.

 

So the fathers saw the best were brought together,

linked the ancient stock to eager working seed,

stout heartedness they gleaned from golden native,

and gave us you, our precious working breed.

 

Yes you my friend, my Aussie working canine,

with broad head, strong and muscular at jaw,

your ready ears pricked short and sharp and heedful,

your brown eyes ever watchful at my door.

 

Oh, it’s such a sight to see you work the livestock,

yes, you know just when to duck, avoid that kick,

or bound across the sheep backs in the bulldust,

you’re a true blue Aussie icon, my first pick.

 

Some sceptics say that you can’t be a show dog,

too frisky, free, undisciplined, they say,

but all your ribbons proudly line our mantel,

and the way you worked, you earned your due today.

 

But I wonder who it was that taught you language,

yes, I know you understand each word we say,

seems you’re deaf when Mum says, “… off the lounge, bad doggie!”

but mention food ... you’re by her feet to stay.

 

And if ever I am down and heavy hearted,

when human beings seem so unaware,

somehow you know, and snuggle up beside me,

and I hear you pant, “I love you”,  true … I swear.

 

So I really can’t imagine life without you,

why I deserve your special kind of care,

I think God favours Cattle/Kelpie/Stumpys,

‘cause you’re all angels, (wrapped in doggie hair).

 

(Glenny Palmer ©2001)