I have an old blue dog, as big as he can be.
He eats way too much but he keeps me company.
I call him Jim and he always calls me sir.
I don't make him do that but it's what he prefers.
He sharpens his claws on the oak tree in the yard.
His claws are nice and sharp but the tree is kind of scarred.
If I sit at the piano he gives me a sideways glance.
But when I play boogie-woogie, he always starts to dance.
He goes to town on Tuesday after I help him groom,
comes home again on Wednesday smelling like perfume.
One time he fought that orange cat that lives a mile away.
But then they licked each other and they are friends today.
He saved a lot of people that time the sky fell down.
They gave him a nice medal but he doesn't wear it now.
One thing he never learned to do is play the violin.
He says he played the banjo once and he thinks he could again.
If I can't sleep at night, he turns the radio on.
He tunes in distant stations and I drift off to a song.
And when I wake up there he is, keeping an eye on me.
I tell him, "I'm okay, Jim," and Jim says so is he.