MacAlistair’s a messy dog, with always muddy paws
For he’s a mucky puppy dog who trails the mud indoors
He’s the scourge of us his owners, and we often do despair
For when we see those pawprints, MacAlistair’s right there.

“MacAlistair! MacAlistair!” we call his name, “MacAlistair!”
He’s running through the flowerbeds and getting muddy paws
We have to yell his name so loud as he runs in the park
But the bold MacAlistair just thinks it’s all a lark.

MacAlistair’s a brindle dog, he’s very tall and lean
You’d know him if you see him as his paws are never clean
His eyes they are so dark and his legs so very long
By the time you see his pawprints, you’ll find that he’s long gone.

MacAlistair, MacAlistair, there’s no dog like MacAlistair,
He’s a wolf who stalks the sitting room and leaves mud on the chairs
Then when you try to send him out, he thunders up the stairs
And all you see is trailing muddy pawprints everywhere!

He’s outwardly a cutie pie who children love to pet
Unless, of course, you need to get him out to see the vet
Then he becomes a racehorse and runs right down the street
And when you get to find him he’ll have smelly muddied feet.

Even when those pawprints are marking your new furniture
You just get out the Vax again and follow round their curvature.
MacAlistair, MacAlistair, there’s no dog like MacAlistair,
He always looks so innocent you can’t keep up the glares.

E.M. Swift-Hook

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