Ole Blue Poem by George Hunter

I had this hound dawg
We called him Ole Blue
Whose favorite sport was
Micturating on my shoe.

He would sneak up unseen by me
Whenever he got the urge to pee
And lift his leg, so very bold
And let go a stream of liquid gold.

Before you could yell Molly Mae!
He’d done the deed and snuck away
And sat there grinning like a Cheshire Cat
He’s lucky I didn’t have a baseball bat

Guess he was just marking his territory
Making me his own
As he knew who it was
That gave him his bone

Ole Blue’s gone now, I miss him so
I cried and cried when he had to go.
I guess he’s now with the rest of the crazies
Trying his best to push up the daisies

He was the best ole dawg under the sun
In spite of his weird way of having his fun.
I think of him often, good Ole Blue
Having his sport micturating on my shoe.

If he were only here, I’d say Dear Blue
If it gives you pleasure
Beyond all measure,
You’re welcome to micturate on my shoe.