What the hell is a Pluker?
For me to know and for you to infer.
Not fish, fowl, or frog,
A kid's pet, a dog.
Without fear of rebuke,
Far and wide, known as Pluke.
A name from my dad,
A naming skill he had.
Couldn't tell, if good or bad.
Should I be sorry, or mad?
A house pet until the dinner roll caper,
Banished to a house with floor of newspaper.
He ruled the back forty,
Never looked back, kinda sporty.
As a puppy, never a runt.
He loved to hunt,
Try to follow, and punt.
A bird dog by breed,
A call he'd never heed.
Through the fields at top speed,
Birds in the pouch, no need.
Toughest for me by far,
Wheeling him home after losing to a car.
Sucker healed without a scar,
Think he retuned the internal RADAR.
College and the Navy, years passed,
Old Pluke seemed to last.
Family, business, career called,
Somewhere along the way, he stalled.