Ode to a stud dog...

Too funny not to share!

My job is making puppies
And I get two tries at that
They pat me on the head and say "Good Boy"
And that is that.

It's half my job to give'em
teeth and toplines, fronts and other,
Remember, it's just half my job...
They also have a mother.

It's not my job to carry pups
And make them grow and nurse 'em
And feed and clean and teach'em,
That's for a "mother" and a person.

It's not my job to wean
And feed the calcium and food
And stack and gait and housebreak and
make 'em a showing brood.

It's not my job to plan the breeding,
And learn what produces well,
To study pedigrees, learn what's there,
And pick out those to sell.

It's not my job to guarantee champs,
the breeder picks the pair,
to mate and whelp and feed and show,
and HOPE the champ is there.

It's not my job to be on hand
when points are handed out.
The breeder, owner, dam and friends
Take credit with a shout.

It's not my job to deliver the winner
It's only genes I sell
But let the puppies turn out bad....
And guess who catches HELL

Author unknown