No Chance

I was sitting on a bar stool
In a dark beer joint
With a long neck Bud
And a pickled pig’s foot

I was alone
Nursin’ a grudge
‘Gainst a field trial judge
Just throwed out my dog
For flaggin’ on point

Yes, he ordered him up
Before I could relocate him
Which I was fixin’ to do
But he couldn’t wait

Well, in he walked
Took a seat on the stool
Next to mine
Said, “Sorry ‘bout your dog,
But I can’t stand a flagging dog”

My heat went up
Said “He was just tellin’ me
Birds had walked
I was fixin’ to relocate him”

“You should ‘a done it
Before you flushed”
Said the judge with a smirk
That’s when I hit him 

He hit the floor
Out cold, by God
Oh Hell, I thought
They are goin’ to ban me

Now he hit that floor
Like a sack of spuds
Bartender, pretty gal
Gave him mouth to mouth

When he come around
Didn’t recognize me
I paid my tab
Left a tip and snuck out

Next morning he was waitin’
At the breakaway
With a bruise
On his face

The handler braced with me
Axed him, “What happened, judge”
He said, “I ain’t sure,
But a pretty gal
Made it all right” 

My dog had a find
On that break away
When I got off to flush
He commenced to flag

Instead of flushin’
Or whistlin’ him up
I grabbed him by the collar
Said, “Judge, I’m pickin up”

I was takin’ no chances
On jogging’
That judge’s
memory 

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