a poem: "dogs begin by being puppies"

THE DOG.
Dogs begin by being puppies,
All of them, both great and small;
But a pup, when he grows up, is
Often not a dog at all.

Ask the crafty sausage seller,
Keeping meanwhile near the door,
Where he gets his meat, and—well-er,
Perhaps we’d better say no more.

Then again, the oily Moses,
Fat cigar and diamond pin,
Oft I wonder if he knows his
Coat is lined with canine skin.

Thus the little dog, no matter
What his walk in life may be—
Sausage-meat, pet, hound, or ratter,
Spends his time most usefully.

-- Lang, Arthur, 1892-1916. Verses. Glasgow: J. Maclehose, 1917. p. 35.  Arthur Lang (1892-1916) was a Scottish soldier killed in action in WWI.  His poetry, shared privately among friends, was collected and published in remembrance after his death.  Most of it is wryly humorous, as you can see from the selection above.

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