Hector the hound

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George L. Avery

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young hector was a mighty hound
who worried hart and hare
he’d often run the fox aground
and hold at bay the bear

come evenings when the chase was done
he’d lie down at the hearth
while master oiled his fowling gun
appraising of his worth

them days were rich and golden ones
and hector seized the years
to rear a pride of headstrong sons
with cotton in their ears

and hector let them have the stage
while he sat on the porch
like one befitting of his age
who’d done passed on the torch

come evenings when the day was done
he’d lie down at the hearth
and gaze on masters fowling gun
and question of his worth

he’d no place in the chase no more
he recognized the truth
one gathered rust inside its bore
and one was long of tooth

then came a night like none before
when robbers broke inside
they knocked old master to the floor
and kicked his dog beside

old hector was a gentle hound
who’d harm nor hart nor hare
but him who swung his boot quick found
he thought he’d kicked a bear

certain as sparks amid a storm
old hector was no more
those scared villains saw him transform
into the hound of yore

he chewed the kneecap off the first
and flew at cheek and chin
they bled, they fought, they cried and cursed
and he would not give in

but in the melee of the fight
one struck a lucky blow
who grasped a broken table leg
and laid old hector low

the thieves, retreating out the door
addressed old master thus
old man, of this you can be sure
next time we finish this

old master’s grasped his hunting horn
he’s called his children home
and ere they’ve took one day to mourn
he’s led them off from home

they’ve trailed the robbers to their roost
who wonder at the sounds
they think that hell has been unloosed
but its just masters hounds

old hector sired many a hound
who’ve worried hart and hare
they’ve often run the fox aground
and held at bay the bear

come evenings when the chase is done
they lay down at the hearth
while master oils his fowling gun
appraising of their worth

03/20/03

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