Dougal's Deid

Like his father William, Thomas appears to have had a great fondness for his dog. Dougal's Deid was published in the local paper.












Dougal's Deid

Come a' ye bards, an' mourn wi' me,
An' dicht the saut tear frae your e'e,
For I've a weary weird tae dree,
An nae reinead;
My he'rt's as sair as sair can be-
Auld Dougal's deid.

In troth he was a noble beast,
Wi' curly coat as black's a preist,
A gallant he'rt beat in his breist,
Noo cauld as leed,
A champion aye at fecht or feast,
But noo he's deid.

He was nane o' thae rampin' tykes
That worry cats or loup ower dykes,
An' at his meat he had nae fykes
Be't kai or bried,
Nae petty, peevish, sma' dislikes-
Alas! he's deid.

In honest truth I sing his praise,
He had sae mony takin' ways,
He aye made freens and ne'er made faes,
Whare'er he gaed,
Sae slee and pawky a' his days-
But noo he's deid.

Auld Dougal's happit in the clay,
For dogs, like men, will ha'e their day,
That sumons we maun a' obey
In awesome dreid,
For death will neither bind nor stay -
Sae Dougal's deid.

Sin' a' life has a common end,
Tae nature's law we a' maun bend
Whan cruel death will ruthless rend
The slender thread,
Sae I maun mourn a trusty friend
In Dougal dead.

Gin there be ony truth in this,
That there's a reward for faithfulness,
I wad auld Dougal winna miss
Tae wag his heid
'Mong sanctly dogs in perfect bliss,
Although he's deid.

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According to family history, Thomas actually put the dog to sleep himself, not trusting the vet to do it.