I WISH MY DADDY WAS A DOG
One day when Bruce was just a lad first starting out in school
He came into my workshop and climbed upon a stool,
I saw him as he entered, but I hadn’t time to play.
So I merely nodded to him and said “Don’t get in the Way.”
He sat awhile just thinking---as quite as could be,
Then carefully he got down and came and stood by me.
He said, “Old Shep, he never works and he has lots of fun,
He runs around the meadows and barks up at the sun.”
“He chases after rabbits and always scares the cats,
He likes to chew on old shoes and sometimes Mother’s hats.
But when we’re tired of running we sit down on a log,
I sometimes get to thinking, I wish my daddy was a dog.”
“Cause then when I came home from school he’d run and lick my hand,
And we would jump and holler and tumble in the sand.
And then I’d be as happy, as happy as could be,
Cause we would play the whole day through just my dad and me.”
“Now I know you work real hard to buy us food and clothes,
And you need to get the girls those fancy ribbons and bows.
But sometimes when I’m lonesome I think ‘twould be lots of fun,
If my daddy was a dog and all his work was done.”
Now when he’d finished speaking he looked so lonely there,
I reached my hand out to him and ruffled up his hair.
And as I turned my head aside to brush away a tear,
I thought how nice it was to have my son so near.
I know the Lord didn’t mean for man to toil his whole life through,
“Come on my son, I’m sure I have some time for you.”
You should have seen the joy and sunlight in his eye,
As we went outside to play--Just my son and I.
Now as the years have flown and youth has slipped away,
I’ve tried always to remember to allow some time to play.
When I pause to reminisce and think of joys and strife,
I carefully turn the pages of this wanderer’s book of life.
I find the richest entry recorded in this daily log,
Is the day that small boy whispered, “I wish my Daddy was a dog.”