LAMENT OF A STUD
My job is making puppies, and I get two tries at that.
They pat me and tell me "Good Boy" and that's the end of that.
It's half my job to give 'em teeth and toplines, fronts and other.
Remember it's only half my job-- they also have a mother.
It's not my job to carry pups and make 'em grow or nurse 'em.
And feed and clean and make 'em strong, That's for "mother " and a person.
It's not my job to wean 'em and feed calcium and food,
And stack and gait and housebreak and make 'em show or brood.
It's not my job to plan the breeding, and learn what produces well; to study pedigrees, learn what's there, and pick out what to sell.
It's not my job to guarantee champs, the breeder picks the pair.
To make and whelp and feed and show and hope that champ is there.
It's not my job to be on hand when points are given out;
the breeder, owners, and their friends take credit with a shout.
It's not my job to deliver a winner, it's only genes I sell;
But let those puppies turn out bad, and guess who catches hell!
FLASH'S FATHER'S PHOTO HAS BEEN REMOVED AT THE REQUEST OF HIS OWNER AFTER HE WAS SOLD.
YEARS AGO WHEN I ANNOUNCED THAT FLASH HAD BECOME A CHAMPION AND ASKED TO HAVE HIS PHOTO ADDED TO HIS ANCESTOR'S SITE I WAS TOLD TO START MY OWN SITE - SO I DID AND HERE IT IS.
THANKS FOR THE SUPPORT!
