The Blind Man and His Dog
I saw a blind man yesterday
Out walking with his dog
That steered him safely along the way,
Like radar through the fog.
My heart went out to that gallant creature,
As his master he dutifully led.
With its soft brown eyes and noble feature,
And loyalty inbred.
They came to a cross-road where both dog and man,
Stopped, as though they were one.
Then the dog’s sharp eyes did the traffic scan,
Waiting until there was none.
But all of a sudden, to my shock and its shame,
The dog, whilst still in full view.
Did cock his leg and carefully aim,
Soaking the blind man’s right shoe.
So across the street I quickly ran,
To be right by his side.
Where possibly I could help the man,
With the dampened foot and pride.
But, as I arrived I was stunned to see
The man offer his dog a biscuit.
Such trust was fantastic ’cause between you and me . . .
. . . I know I wouldn’t have risked it.
“You forgiveness is humbling,” I said with feeling.
“A compassion possessed by so few.
“From your dog your emotions completely concealing,
“Just after he’s peed on your shoe.”
“You’re wrong, I’m afraid,” the blind man said,
“To credit me with such class.
“I’m trying to find out which end is his head,
“So’s to kick him quite hard up the arse!”