“Grace is love that cares and stoops and rescues.”(John Stott)

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Every Dog Has A Pickup

By Neva Bodin

That dog has a pickup

In the driver’s seat he sits

I’ll bet if I got close I’d see

A gun upon his hip


Now I see he’s a cow dog

There’s evidence of that

Just notice that long rifle

And the lariat on the rack


His blue eyes watch intently

The door of Molly’s Bar

Hoping soon his wrangler, Jim

Can make it from that far


Sometimes when the day is done

And the dusty wind dies down

He hops into the pickup truck

And Jim drives them to town


He’s bitten dusty, dirty, heels

Got kicked a time or two

And helped Old Jim, his partner

Wrangle cows ‘till day was through


So now old Jim is tipping

A beer, or maybe more

And though a dog is patient

Sitting still is such a bore

The pickup window’s open

So he can get some air

His ears perk up as the bar door creaks

Perhaps Jim will be there


The door was only swinging

From a playful gust of wind

He sighs and turns his head away

Then I see a doggy grin


As a muddy rancher’s pick up

From the west comes driving up

And a cowgirl exits one side

On the other side a pup


Then, by the pup another

Larger set of ears are turning

Toward his open window

And his whine belies his yearning


For the brown-eyed sheltie gazes

Back into the Aussie’s blue’s

And the pup beside her yips

Unaware he’s blue-eyed too


And so the two dog ranchers

Sit in their 4 x 4’s

Now gazing at each other

Never mind the old bar doors.