MUISTOISSAMME/GONE BUT NEVER FORGOTTEN
” An Old Pit Bulldog Thinks of Death”
When they ask you, if I died well,
Tell them then, the Bulldog’s tale;
A tale of courage, dogs bred bold,
A tale of my kind, centuries old.
My blood comes from an ancient age;
Was valued more than king or sage,
Sires and dams of courage rare –
Who took on all who thought to dare.
In my blood flows images of ancient kin,
Of silent stone circles, of small dark men,
I see a savage beast in the flickering light
That those before me stood there to fight.
Rough British bulls go through my sleep,
I hold them fast with courage deep;
I hold them fast for my master’s blow
With pride – I hold their noses low.
Before that even, we held the boar,
From those rough dogs comes my core.
We’ve hunted, guarded, protected and fought-
We’ve done whatever man has taught.
So never think I would forsake these things
When soon my spirit takes to wings
And when they ask you how I died,
Say, ”As a Bulldog-with courage and pride.”
Diane Jessup 2/93
Dedicated to Bandog Dread
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