The Inspector
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The boys were out there following, yet another stolen car,
They knew if they could stay in sight, he would not get too far.
No chases to be carried out, said the lawyer politician,
It is the fault of all police, for this mayhem and destruction.
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So the boys maintained their distance, not too near or far,
Soon they knew these latest crooks, would dump their stolen car.
Back and forth they followed, and lost it in the sun,
But found it going o’er the bridge, to Richmond for some fun.
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When suddenly they dumped it, Inspector Boyd was there,
He ran quickly for the driver, and was about to grab his hair.
When suddenly he felt a pain, from somewhere in behind,
And screaming an obscenity, guess what he turned to find.
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Hal Hamilton’s dear puppy, a fur covered razor blade,
Had missile lock, on David’s six, with mincemeat being made.
Finally with lots of help, they unlocked the jaws of doom,
Put him on the trail of crooks, and gave him lots of room.
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Dave called out for an ambulance, to come and patch his rear,
The driver of the stolen car, was brought in too no fear.
When the newsmen asked Inspector, what happened in this fight,
What was the name of the puppy dog, that gave poor Dave his bite.
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He put it quite succinctly, in that charming Scottish drawl,
I’m not sure of the puppies name, who was with me on this call.
Ike the name on record, Hal maybe changing it,
For Dave now calls him "asshole", because of where he bit.
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PC 664 T.J. Gowdyk 97-07-25 (153)