One day when Bruce was just a lad, starting out
in school, he came into my shop and climbed upon
a stool.
I saw him when he entered, but didn't have time
to play. So I merely nodded to him and said "don't
get in the way".

He sat there a while thinking--as quit as he could be.
Then carefully he got down and came and stood by me.
He said, old shep never works and has lots of fun.
He runs around the meadows and barks at the sun.

He chases after rabbits and always scares the cats.
He likes to chew on old shoes, and sometimes mother's hats.
But when we're tired of running, we sit down on a log.
I sometimes get to thinking--I wish my daddy was a dog.

Cause then, when I come home from school,
he'd run and lick my hand,
and we would jump and holler and tumble in the sand.
And then i'd be happy, as happy as could be,
'cause we would play the whole day through,
just my dad and me.

Now I know you work real to buy us food and clothes,
and you need to get the girls those fancy ribbons and bows.
But sometimes, when I'm lonesome, I think it would
be lots of fun
if my daddy was a dog and all his work was done.

Now when he'd finished speaking,
he looked so lonely there,
I reached my hand out to him and ruffled up his hair.
As I turned my head aside to brush away a tear
I thought how nice it was to have my son so near.

I know the Lord didn't mean for man
to toil his whole life through.
Come on my son, I'm sure I have some time for you.
You should have seen the the joy and sunlight in his eye
as we went outside to play--just my son and I.

Now as the years have flown and youth has slipped away,
I've tried to always remember to allow some time to play.
When I pause to reminisce and think of joys and strife,
I carefully turn the pages of this wondrous book of life.

I find the richest entry recorded in this daily log
Is the day that small boy whispered,
I wish my daddy was a dog.