'They' tell me, now,
A husky-mix dog won't stay.
Tie 'em up, pen 'em,
Or the neighbor's complain.
So, I didn't even Look for another Cain.
But let me tell you,
My Cain dog was Husky.
Silver and grey and a
'from the toenails' growl...
But HE stayed, no chains.
Small town, Oklahoma, no leash.
Everybody knows everybody; me and Cain,
Bicycle riding, summer days.
Grandma Dugan waving,
Mr. John Long tossing out soup bones,
"Yonder's thet Earli and her dawg."
"Boy! Pur-D-hot! Wisht'id rain."
"Wonder whar she's going 'ta noon?"
Nap, doze, one more summer gone...
But...so was Cain.
"Hey Earlie? Thet you, girl?"
"Whar's thet big white dawg?"
"Oh yeah?" "Too bad." and "How'd he die?"
"You don't hardly seem like Earli,
Without thet white dog, Cain."
Ten long, hard years and lots of road.
But no white dog's shoulders
To share the good times...or the pain,
And...I don't hardly FEEL like Earli,
Without my white dog, Cain.