Lyrics composed by
Grandad John Henderson on 25 June, 2008
to Cliff Hess' tune to the song, "Freckles".
Our Pete is a smarty puppy,
A very wet-nosed, flop-eared, little chap,
And he is our grand-daughter's closest pal,
Because she is also thirty inches tall.
Of course his snug rug that we had long-sought
Lies close-by our young Betty's pink-framed cot,
And there, he, curls to snore, upon her bedroom floor.
Ev'rywhere she goes,
You'll always spot wee Pete's wet-nose;
His wagging tail as interest grows and grows.
While Betty pats him, and pets him.
Soon she's taught him how to run,
Just like a shot fired from a gun,
And next quickly fetch a ball back for her,
Then once more, another and another.
When they tire of that,
Our Betty starts to have a chat,
And list'ning Pete seems to love her tittle-tat
With ears wide open.
Till Grandma calls to both of them to come back in,
And have their pick out of the sweet biscuit tin -
Betty and Pete exchange wide grins,
And race in to see who wins.