| When I was a lad
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| And old Shep was a pup
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| Over hills and meadows we’d stray
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| Just a boy and his dog
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| We were both full of fun
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| We grew up together that way
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| I remember the time
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| At the old swimmin' hole
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| When I would have drowned beyond doubt
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| But old Shep was right there
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| To the rescue he came
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| He jumped in and helped pull me out
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| As the years fast did roll
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| Old Shep, he grew old
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| His eyes were fast growing dim
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| And one day the doctor
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| Looked at me and said
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| «I can do no more for him, Jim»
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| With hands that were trembling
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| I picked up my gun
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| And aimed it at Shep’s faithful head
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| I just couldn’t do it
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| I wanted to run
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| I wish they would shoot me instead
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| He came to my side
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| And looked up at me
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| And laid his old head on my knee
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| I had struck the best friend
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| That a man ever had
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| I cried so I scarcely could see
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| Old Shep, he has gone
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| Where the good doggies go
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| And no more with old Shep will I roam
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| But if dogs have a heaven
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| There’s one thing I know
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| Old Shep has a wonderful home |