Was a cold an' windy mornin' in May
When under my old pickup I did spy
A miserable and hungry pup
With a sad and pleading eye.
I said, "Come out from there little feller.
Come into my cabin."
Where my breakfast he did devour.
My best friend.Not the kind to bite the hand that feeds
In time he grew to be a fine fellow,
The kind of friend every cowboy needs.
Strong and tough with courage.
For me he would always wait
In the rain, sleet, or snow by the gate.
My best friend.When by my bunk at night
He would guard me from things unseen,
A rumble from his lips would come
When things not right would seem.
My best friend.We have spent many years together, he and I.
I remember the time a cow had me down
With loyalty never questioned.
God, I was glad he was around,
He who wouldn't hesitate going into a blizzard
To help all night with stock.
My best friend.His face has turned to white,
His eyes are glazed and losing their sight.
You have to tap a boot on the floor for him to hear,
And there's a hitch in his git-along
From a wreck with a steer.
My best friend.Was a cold and windy morning in May,
While in his bed he did lay
And, with pleading brown eyes,
"Please help me," they seemed to say.
With tears streaming down my face,
I wrapped him in my coat, for his head.
Into my pickup, I carefully did lay.
He's in the pastures of his youth
Where he'll always play.
My best friend.
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