[With apologies to Walt Whitman]
O Captain! My Captain! our daily walk is done
You gathered every single ball, you didn’t lose but one
We walked the strand, that strip of sand, along the shore careering;
You followed me for many miles, the salty grime adhering.
But O dirt! dirt! dirt!
O the spreading clods of mud,
Where from the bath my Captain flies
Cavorting in the flood.
O Captain! My Captain! rise up and dry your ears;
Rise up—for you the towel is flung—for you the firelight cheers;
For you raw meats and other treats—for you the bowl’s awaiting;
For you they call, your loyal fans, their eager hearts pulsating.
Here Captain! Dear Captain!
O show us please the mud,
As cleanly now, from off your paws
It falls with scarce a thud.
My Captain does not answer, he’s quiet as a log;
My Captain does not say a word, because he is a dog.
His lead is hung up for the night, our daily walk is done;
The walk was good, and so was food, but bath-time was more fun.
Exult, O mutt and wag your tail!
You cannot help the mud,
For you it is the holy grail,
It’s in your doggy blood.