Mah Depen’ Able Fren’ Poem by Raymond Garfield Dandridge

He doan care how po' I am,
Or dat folks calls me 'Luckless Sam,'
Or dat Ise black, 'sted white or red,
Ez long ez I pat his ole head,
An' let him scratch his fuzz an' fleas
Erbout de place whar ebb he please.

He's bin wid me thoo thick an' thin;
Stood by mah side w'en mah blood kin
Done turnt me loose to sink or swim,
An' let me tell mah woes to him;
Jes laid his ole head on mah knee
An' good ez sed, depen' on me.

Las' Toosday mo'nin', jes' bout ten,
Dog body-snatchers cot mah fren'
An' put him in de dog lock up,
Long side en onree, mangy pup;
An' dar he lay, paws cross his face,
Ershame to be in sech a place.

Aldough it tuk mah pile, ni' bout,
Doun' I wen' an' bailed him out;
An' dat ole boy jes understood
Ez good ez enybody c'u'd;
Kaze w'en he seen me makin' bail
He 'gan to bark an' wag his tail.

Den, I paid mah las' 'hole dollah
Fo' dem license on his collah,
Fust class, gent'man dog's permit
To let him go what he sees fit,
Thout bein' pestard by de scamps
Dat prey on po' fo' footed tramps.