Rydin' High! - Cowdogs Lyrics

Our friend and poet-lariat, Ed Brown
Writes about ranch life in California
Now, some cowdogs have pedigrees
And other claims to fame
But here, a cowdog gets two things
A whoopin' and a name
And we don't just give 'em a name
From some book up on the shelves
Nah, we use 'em and if they stick around
Well, we let them name themselves
Now Lucky, got his easily
We didn't like the sound
He just hopped in the pickup truck
While we was at the pound
And Romeo, he's not much show
His usefulness is slim
But you know, all the pups for miles around
Look exactly like him
Just how old Screech got his name
Well, I bet I beat you to it
Yep, it's the sound that a fence makes
When he's runnin' cattle through it
Now, some cowdogs have pedigrees
And other claims to fame
But here, a cowdog gets two things
A whoopin' and a name
Well, with Ornery's disposition
You'd not give him half a chance
But 'ya know, he sure comes in handy
Keepin' the salesmen off the ranch
And some of the names that we've bestowed
Don't need much explanation
Like Meter Maid, he marks the tires
And Lazy's on vacation
Now, Backhoe fills the yard with holes
And Nixon covers 'em up
Welfare ain't done a doggone thing
Since he was just a pup
Buzzard, he eats the darnedest things
And Leppy's mother never claimed him
And if we had a dog that could work cows
Shoot, we wouldn't know what to name him
Now, some cowdogs have pedigrees
And other claims to fame
But here, a cowdog gets two things
A whoopin' and a name
Backhoe, quit diggin' that hole
Here Leppy, here Leppy, come here
That's a good boy
Buzzard, oh put that thing down
You don't know where it's been
That's gross
Meter Maid, not my boots