(All poems at this website are the copyrighted property of Tom Allen.
Permission to print for individual use is granted.)

LIT'L BO(161KB)

Have ya ever known a dog that was worth his keep,
And hunted with his nose to the ground?
Have ya ever owned a dog for the sound of the hunt,
Whether a Beagle or Blue-Tick hound?

I knew a dog that was the best I'd seen,
He carried his bark loud and long;
And when he would run the hollers-n-hills,
Men would listen just to hear his song.

We credited his size to part Red Bone,
His stamina to Country Hound;
And when it came to catch'n the scent quick,
None better had yet been found.

He hit the trail first when dropped from the truck,
And ran out in front of the pack;
The only way some of those hounds found the tree,
Was by follow'n-long after his track.

Many a Fall night I sat on my porch,
Just listen'n to the distant race;
I often could tell by the tone of his bark,
How long 'till the end of the chase.

That dog hunted for nearly ten years,
You could tell he did it for fun;
'Till one night on a cross-county hunt,
It was if he forgot how to run.

Lit'l Bo was the name he'd answer to,
I can still see the look in his eye;
Ain't it sad how even good hunt'n dogs,
Are allotted a time they should die?

So now, when I hear dogs run at night,
From my porch for an hour or so;
I imagine one dog is far out in front,
And he sounds a lot like Lit'l Bo.