Lament of a stud.
Author Unknown

My job is making puppies, and I get two tries at that.
They pat me on the head and say "good boy" - and that's that.
It's half my job to give 'em teeth and toplines, fronts and other.
Remember, it's only half my job. They also have a mother.

It's not my job to carry pups and make 'em grow and nurse 'em,
And feed and clean and make 'em strong, that's for Mother and a person.
It's not my job to wean and feed the calcium and food.
And stack and gait and housebreak and make 'em a showing brood.

It's not my job to plan the breeding and learn what produces well.
To study pedigrees, learn what's there and pick out what to sell.
It's not my job to guarantee champs, the breeder picks the pair.
To mate and whelp and feed and show and HOPE the champ is there.

It's not my job to be on hand when points are given out,
The breeder, owner, Dam and friends take credit with a shout.
It's not my job to deliver a winner, it's only genes I sell.
But let the puppies turn out BAD and guess who catches HELL!!!

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