Memories Of Pudsy

It is going back in time some six decades in years The day we farewelled Pudsy our old dog in tears A brown flood bank high in the Claramore rill Flowing in Claraghatlea in Winter's cold chill In the backyard in the old timber shed On the bed of straw where she slept we found Pudsy dead A tough hairy black and tan dog she was fourteen years old One who loved the out of door life even in weather wet and cold When challenged by another dog she always stood her ground She was the best fighting dog for miles around For us such a sad day in weather cold, wet and hard When we buried our old dog by a tree in the backyard Though Pudsy long gone memories of her remain And in fancy in Con the Master's bog i hunt with her again.