Patrick The Blue Heeler Cattle Dog Poem by Keith Shorrocks Johnson

Bright he bounds through opened door
He’s my mate of that I’m sure -
Flashing a toothy smile for me
He sniffs my strides inquisitively.

A pat, he shakes a coarse grey paw -
A bowl and soon he asks for more.
Tell me Patrick ‘How’d you be? ’
Watch the sofa mate it ain’t a tree.

Soon he’s scouting out the floor -
And at the bin for something raw.
Hold on a mo mate, can’t you see
That’s no place to cock and pee.

Sam you had better take your saw
You should have done so long before -
Don’t let your bloody dog make free
He’s itching now against my knee.

Back in the truck and close the door.
This audience is ended mate - no more.
He’s got the chops I bought for tea
And there’s a wet patch on my new settee.