I had an old dog and his name was Blue;
a fight with a mad fox he got into.
But afterwards he acted kind of cuckoo,
and then the strangest things he commenced to do.
I asked, “Hey there, Blue, what’s wrong with you?”

Well, Old Blue was acting unsound,
eyes like saucers, big and round.
Angrily pawing the ground
Then against a hard wall he began to bound.
Well, I freaked out, just stood there and gawked, agog;
I could see that something was wrong with my dog.
I said, “Curled-lips Blue, that ain’t no moue!”

Was such a pooch pal since he was born,
but now he just glared at me with growing scorn.
Old Blue barked like a canine banshee;
I sure didn’t like the way he looked at me.
So as I stood there and studied him:
my once bright boy seemed kinda dim.
I asked, “What’s that, Blue, foaming from you?!”

Well, Old Blue, what makes your eyes so red?
Blue, you’re fillin’ me with dread!
Blue, something bad to you fed?
Looks like you’re past the point of doggy meds.
I thought, “Sorry, Blue, mutt meds won’t do.”

Then Old Blue lunged and he lunged so hard
it made me haul ass from the yard.
Situation, grave; hoped my butt I’d save;
I was sure gonna need more than wolfbane.
I thought: rabies preys on his brain.
I prayed, “Hey, Old Blue, please do not chew!!”

Behind me I could hear his bark;
I thought my future looked dark.
A big adrenaline spark
I would need or I’d be his mark.
And then, a bold chew. . .a butt boo-boo.

Into my hind his fangs did go;
the virus to my mind did flow.
Where you’ll find me, I think you know:
from the House floor rabid smoke I blow.
So now I’m Old Blew, a mad dog too.