Friday, February 15, 2008

Pancho Me Dog, Me Dog Pancho

I had bought a milk run 1962, location; Avalon Beach, this story commences in the first weeks;
What possessed me, this is midnight and blowin’, I’m all alone in me old ‘J’ van so let the repartee start flowin’.
I am all alone, but not for long, because a ‘creature’ comes from the gloom, it’s tail is wagging bigtime
He’s brown and black, his nose is wet, me names Pancho he says, you and me will have a goodtime.

For two years me dog and me our clients we would call on, all over Avalon we wandered, “cats”, said Pancho.
From now on there’s a war on.

I must tell you that I never knew Pancho’s parent’s or from whence he came, he really was not Pancho, it’s the term we agreed on, early in the game.

God we did some good stuff, it whiled away the time and more, we shared my sangers, drank ‘our’ ice cream mix, told stories by the score.

We can relate those bloody black ghosts down in Avalon Parade, and out of the windy night they came.
Can you forget how calamitous you were, barkin’, fretful was your go, Pancho what’s your game.

These six young blokes are on a mission, you guys are sworn by word, you and Pancho will say naught, or you will get the sword.
We sit in the gutter and have to settle down, our Commandos me and Pancho, share some milk, discuss the plan before Torpedo Base their bound.

Never saw those boys again, but they carried out the task, did they end up in a war torn place, if they did their safety, that’s all we ever ask.

Pancho wore out his pads, me, well I wore out me volleys. And the served me well, Pancho used to greet me nightly his tail wagged we would have yarn, he cleared his head, me volleys he would smell.

Many nights Avalon peace was rudely torn asunder, you see he chased the cats all over, “did you see that dog last night”, well I did, “wasn’t it your dog Rover? ”

Old buddy you remember when dawn lit up, you became my savior, you became the milkman’s dog, you were always on your best behavior.

We battled gales and rain, fallen trees, and the bloody Orb Weaving Spider, and this story I must impart. It didn’t kill me, but it slowed me down, you were concerned, “did it hurt”, well “no old mate, but your concern I know, comes from your doggie heart”.

How about our brand new truck, “we” bought a Ming blue ‘Dattie’, she was all the go, but “does this mean I can’t ride in the front or is she just for show? ”
You won’t tell a soul, ‘cause proud as punch we were, promise me will you please, you did ride in front, only problem Pancho I had to put with yer fleas.

Old dog I thanks you for your company, and except my dear wife Shirley you were my dearest friend, the times we had, the stuff we did, why God did it have to end.
Got crook and all good things have to end, had to sell the “run”, you went home, I loves you still, Pancho me mate, thanks, you were this milkman’s God send.

Oh, one last section to this yarn, and good things come from bad, you adopted the young ‘new man’ but I could tell, it was me and you, and, was I the best milkman that you ever had?
John D. Farley

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1/19/2021 1:07:09 AM #