Ole Black Mutt

OLD BLACK MUTT

To some, I'm just an old black mutt,
I patrol the water's edge around,
the fueling dock, usually at a strut,
To see what I can find.

My days are busy,
Boats all sizes, colors, shapes,
Come in and out,
My nights are long and dreary.

Mom and Pop left long ago.
I look for them, but they don't show.
I sleep in a hole;
Live on scraps left behind.

A pat on the head would be nice,
But don't have time to fret 'bout that.
Must be about my scouting,
Though wearier and one day older.