|I am just a dog breeder’s husband
I no longer rule my domain
Even if kindly invited
From opinions I wisely refrain.
|It appears that his eyesight is failing
His errors in judgment immense
In fact if I didn’t know better
You’d doubt that he had any sense.
|I am just a glorified kennel boy
Of minor Importance I know
It seems that my primary function
Is merely providing the dough.
|One finds that amateur’s bungling
No match for professional skill
A handler can hide what an owner admits
As he tries hard his conscience to still.
|Now dog breeding’s not inexpensive
As you all are no doubt aware
But the problem’s not so much the money
As the bustle, the wear and tear.
|The din and utter confusion
Of everyone talking at once
Leaves one weary, hoarse and irascible
And the next day a bleary-eyed dunce.
|Having studied the layback of shoulder
And becoming an expert on feet
I still have not learned to give worm pills
Or how much a puppy should eat.
|Sometimes late in the evening
I am asked if I do not agree
That Who-z-ma-call-its Bridget
Is somewhat down at the knee.
|My spouse will spend hours trimming
A ‘Bred By Exhibitor Bitch‘
But when it comes to scratching my back
Her thoughts are to let the thing itch.
|But before I can answer the question
I find that my answer’s ignored
For some inexplicable reason
My questioner’s suddenly bored.
|Some summer I hope that my wife’ll
Take me wandering in some foreign vale
Instead of inspecting the stifle
Of some special stud at Hinsdale.
|I am only a dog breeder’s husband
Not that I mean to complain
But I find certain aspects amazing
When I aspire my role to explain.
|Oft in a crowded motel room
After the show is o’er
Someone will question the judge’s decision
While they reach for another drink more.
|I know at least where I’m going
I’m rapidly going to seed
But I’ve learned about ‘Winner’s Bitches‘
I’ve married the ‘˜Best of the Breed.’