He may be a large dog or may be small,
He will fight one dog or fight them all,
He will give you all he has to give,
It’s the only way he wants to live.
He has earned the respect of poor men and kings,
He has fought in the open, in pits and in rings.
He has fought the wolverine, the bull and the bear,
For his own life he has not a care.
He will not cower, he will not cry,
For to be called a cur he would rather die.
A cur and a fighter are not the same,
A cur is a quitter but a fighter is game.
We don’t force him to fight, he can quit at anytime,
But it’s not a bulldog that stand the line.
When men speak of bulldogs, the words that fit are those like courage, stamina and grit.
In the pit he is powerful, fierce and wild,
But at home, he will sleep with the smallest child.
He knows not the meaning of a word called quit,
He lives on a chain, but longs for the pit.
The blood of a champion flows in his veins,
He can stand the heat, he can stand the pain.
If it comes to the scratch, he’ll make the run,
When he hears his master cry “Go get em’, son!”
– Floyd Boudreaux