Dave The Jackal
By Gary Hogg 

Come an’ listen to me and I’ll tell you a tale
That you might or you might not believe
Of a weird and wonderful occurrence
What some folks find hard to perceive

 Now I know the majority of folks round these parts
Can manage from cradle to grave
And have nowt to do wi’ a jackal as such
But this tale’s about one, - called Dave

Now for them that don’t know, jackals, I suppose
Are wild dogs wi’ great sticky-up ears
That live where it’s hot, - deserts and whatnot
So you’ll not see that many round here

He lived on the outskirts of Cape Town, did Dave
In South Africa where he thought life was dull
Till he went scroungin’ in a truck full of apples
And ended up in a warehouse in Hull

Dis-orient-icated,  I think is the word
After six thousand miles in a crate
And it took a few weeks wi’ just apples to eat
So ‘is bowels weren’t behavin’ too great

Then they set off again with him still in ‘is box
But he’d chewed through the top and was hidin’
In the hope that he’d be in The Serengetee
But he wasn’t, it was Amblethwaite Sidin’s

When there was no one about he got himself out
Had a right good stretch and a scratch
And set off across Amblethwaite Common
To find a wildebeest or summat to catch

There was nowt but a hedgehog and he couldn’t eat that
Then he wound up in Hector Scholes’ yard
Where he come nose to nose wi’ a rottweiler called Rose
And thought “Flippin’ heck! She looks hard!”

The rottweiler was nice, cos she stopped and thought twice
About swallowin’ our poor Dave whole
And says “Alright there, love?” then says “Heavens above,
You need a good feed, where’s me bowl?”

She says “Here, have some dinner, ‘fore you get any thinner,
I could play ‘Auld Lang Syne’ on yer ribcage”
She says “I like skinny blokes but yer havin’ a joke,
 Think you’d never been fed since the Ice-age”

With the flame from the Amblethwaite Cokeworks
Reflectin’ in the pond underneath
She looked quite attractive stood there in the dusk
With a sparkle to her eyes and her teeth

She invited Dave to stay at her place that night
A blue Bedford van she called home
And the two of ‘em got dead nice and cosy
As snug as two nits in a comb

Now while Rose was quite happy confined to the yard
Our Dave was bored out of his skin
So he went out next day, sayin’ “I’m goin’ for some prey,
Don’t cook owt, I’ll bring summat in”

There’s not much call for a Jackal in Amblethwaite, tho
There’s no gazelles, no wildebeest n’that
No wide desert plains and no pampas nor nowt
Unless you count the spare field by the flats

But he found himself on Amblethwaite High Street
Where the butcher was unloadin’ ‘is van
So Dave went to ground till there was no one around
And jumped in and done off wi’ a ham

Now Rose was that used to eatin’ Pedigree Chum
That she didn’t take kindly to change
So bein’ polite she just buried it that night
And Dave din’t think anythin’ strange

So once they’d got used to each other’s strange ways
And adapted their lifestyle to suit
They lived out their life like husband and wife
And had three lots of puppies to boot

It’s sad, I suppose, that poor Dave and Rose
Passed on many years ago now
And though they’ve long gone, their legend lives on
If you listen I’ll tell you for how

You see all dogs in Amblethwaite, be they collies or poms
Chihuahuas, alsatians or pugs
They’ve all got that sparkle in their eyes and their teeth
And they’ve all got great sticky-up lugs!

©Gary Hogg 2003