A quirky look at life from a Yorkshire poet and his dog's perspective
Whilst walking my canine along the Pennines,
A maiden waylaid me, done up to the nines,
Who asked, "Kindly sir, with your handsome old dog,
Could you find me my shoe, which I've lost in this bog."
"Far better," quoth I, so as not to deceive her,
"At your services ma'am, my jet black retriever."
Dauphy instinctively knew what to do,
He dived in the mud and he pulled out the shoe.
The maid was effusive, fluttering her eyes,
Blimey, I thought, I've caught me a prize!
Mistakenly thinking, I'd gained me a trophy,
Her attentions were elsewhere, she'd fallen for Dauphy.