Woof!
If you can hold your bark when all men about you
Are losing their mind and taking it out on you
If you can wag your tail when all men spurn you
Yet make allowance for their spurning too
If you can wait, and not be tired by waiting
As long as it takes for your master’s return
Or being hated, don’t give way to hating
Just keep on licking in the hope they’ll learn
If you can listen to the sorrows of your master
Nor judge him, but be his constant friend
If you can save him from hurt and disaster
Nor expect a reward or the favour returned
If you can bear to hear the harsh words spoken
To you for every deed misunderstood
Or watch your precious horde of old bones broken
Nor bite them back or speak a word
If you can leap or send a ball spinning
And run for every stick pitched out
And catching it, run back to the beginning
Restart the game, nor tire out
If you can force you heart and nerve and sinew
To serve your master long after they are gone
And so hold on when there’s nothing in you
Except his voice, which tells you, “Hold On”
If you can live in streets, nor lose your virtue
Or walk with humans nor lose the canine touch
If neither sticks nor stones can hurt you
Yet a master’s unkind glance prove too much
If you can chase a car every other minute
For sixty blocks worth of distance run
Yours is the Earth, and all smells in it
And-which is more- you’ll be a Dog my pup!
