’Twas in those days when he was young,
And kennelled, fed, and tagged.
Her spirit seemed to hover ’round,
For from the shop behind
A fragrance came which somehow brought
That she-dog to his mind.
And of those pugs who’d scratched with him,
And barked and gambolled ’round,
Some ate the poisoned chop and died,
Some perished in the pound.