This Poem was Submitted By: Mark D. Kilburn On Date: 2001-11-03 15:28:18 . . . Click Here To Mail this Poem to a Friend!

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It's a Dog Gone Shame

                                                                         There actually are people                   who kill our prairie dogs,                   scopes upon their rifles                   like the butchering of hogs.                   They sit at chairs and tables                   and can kill an awful lot,                   walk away while  laughing                   leaving carcasses to rot.                   What kind of petty person                    could ever get a thrill,                   from the sick and senseless slaughter                   of a prairie dog kill.                   I would like to do something                   to help write this wrong.                   There won’t be any doing                   when the last doggie’s gone.                                      With open arms they’re welcomed                   onto the ranchers land,                   the dog is just a varmint                   kill as many as you can.                   He eats all the grasses                   he is full of disease,                   a hazard to the livestock                   and he’s covered with fleas.                   The killers start shooting                   while they chuckle and smirk,                   then start blasting bullets                   we know how bullets hurt.                   When the bloodfest is over                   what survivors still remain                   are murdered by the rancher                   and his deadly poisoned grain.                   Ignorance and rumor                   are the real killers here.                   The truth we find in science,                   and science makes things clear.                   The prairie dog is truly                   the cattleman’s friend,                   he was the buffaloes buddy                   before the bison’s end.                   Dogs will eat grasses                    and all noxious weeds,                   the new growth that follows                   is the grazers favorite feed.                   These grazers are too smart to                   step in prairie dog holes,                    which are dark and empty                   as these sad shooters souls.                                                   Prairie dogs aren’t dirty                   they are really quite clean.                   They spend their hours preening                   and can dig their own latrine.                   They communicate by talking                    can more than warn or greet,                   for eagles, fox and ferrets                   they’re the only food to eat.                   If we lose these little doggies                   we lose the prairies key,                   change the name to wasteland                   there’ll be nothing left to see.                   For a cornerstone species                   is so crucial to us all,                   we better help the black tails                   stand proud, upright and tall.

Copyright © November 2001 Mark D. Kilburn

Additional Notes:
I wrote this after watching a show on FSTV called Varmints about the Black Tailed Prairie Dog. I recommend watching it although I will warn of it's graphics. If anyone is interested and cannot find it, e-mail me and I will try to make a copy or re-tape it. It is shown 2-3 times a month. I think about the passenger pigeon every time I think about the Black Tail and fear their parallels. The excuse that they are varmints, rodents and "we aren't breaking the law" won't cut it anymore if we are to insure their survival. The hawks and raptors are already disappearing from our great plains as the Dogs numbers decline. They need ALL of OUR help and they need it now. Write is used intentionally in the first verse. thanks for reading


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