This young pup
He watches me
As I go to and fro from Cabin to gate
From Gate to truck.
He watches
Hay being hauled
Troughs filled
He watches me with intensity
As pure as stars
As hard as diamonds
And he watches the old dog go with me to pull out of the flock the lambing ewes
Or load the heifers in the rig.
Then I notice and remember
I put him up where he cannot see
and grab greedily with his eyes
The stock that one day he will help with.
This young pup.
Whose blood runs with Cowboys and Scotsman
And back over swift centuries
to days of hunting and firelight
till once a pup peered out of a lonesome den of cold hard earth
And felt the touch of a human hand.