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Boxer Songs (49:46)
(©2004 Heather T. Strong & Kate Connick)

boxer dog cd

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Comfort Seeker
(lyrics ©2004 Kate Connick)

Crumpled pillow, tangled sheets,
A snore like raging thunder.
The boxer dog sleeps soundly.
The covers, he's half under.

Lips and eyebrows boogie,
Deep in his dream state.
He's settled for a hearty snooze,
Although it isn't late.

I beckon, "Time to go outside."
"Let's go. I'm waiting, dear."
Both eyes pop open; then they close.
He pretends he didn't hear.

Too hot, too cold, wet, lumpy, hard -
He's not a dog for in the yard.
He craves his comfort in full measure.
A hedonist, quite bent on pleasure!
Like the princess and the pea,
Or maybe just a bit like me!

"C'mon you lazy slobberdog.
Get off that stinking bed!
You have 4 legs; Now use them!"
My face was turning red.

I hovered over, swore a bit,
Waved a sausage past his nose,
Shoved his limp weight to the floor.
Reluctantly he rose.

"Finally dog, now let's go out."
But just as I had feared,
By the time the door was open,
The dog had disappeared.

Too hot, too cold, wet, lumpy, hard -
He's not a dog for in the yard.
He craves his comfort in full measure.
A hedonist, quite bent on pleasure!
Like the princess and the pea,
Or maybe just a bit like me!

He'd tucked himself back into bed.
Every muscle, flaccid.
"Oh sure, you've picked the perfect time
To pretend that you are placid!"

Patience gone, I had no choice.
I really beg your pardon.
I hauled that dog out through the door
And dumped him in the garden!

He looked at me with wounded eyes.
So maudlin, ohh the pain!
How dare I make a boxer dog
"Do his business" in the rain!

Too hot, too cold, wet, lumpy, hard -
He's not a dog for in the yard.
He craves his comfort in full measure.
A hedonist, quite bent on pleasure!
Like the princess and the pea,
Or maybe just a bit like me!


Toy Dog
(lyrics ©2004 Kate Connick)

The AKC is all confused.
They say I am a guardian,
And lump me with the working breeds,
When I'd rather be out partyin'.

I may look sober as a judge.
That's just a skin-deep mask.
If I'm not playing with my toys,
It's hard to keep on task.

This working dog is unemployed.
Truth be told, I'm overjoyed.
Work just gets folks all annoyed.
I'll have no part of that!
Play is all I really need.
Work ethics aint part of my creed.
Group me as a toy dog breed.
That's what I'm all about!

Stuffies, chewies, ropes to tug,
Balls that bounce and giggle -
Carried, tossed, or batted 'round,
They cause my stub to wiggle.

Tough nut? Oh that's foolishness.
Boxers don't know how to frown.
I always wear a great big smile,
But I wear it upside-down!

This working dog is unemployed.
Truth be told, I'm overjoyed.
Work just gets folks all annoyed.
I'll have no part of that!
Play is all I really need.
Work ethics aint part of my creed.
Group me as a toy dog breed.
That's what I'm all about!


Colorblind
(lyrics ©2004 Kate Connick)

Bereft from losing my old dog,
A void I had to fill.
Researched breeds, concluded that
A boxer fit the bill.

Sought a pup most nosey,
Lively, friendly, bold,
Healthy, strong and playful,
And likely to grow old.

Play with junior, jog with Dad,
Chase tennis balls I throw -
Asked the breeder for advice.
Which pup? I didn't know.

Brindle, fawn, light or dark -
Which puppy should I take?
Flashy, plain, all so cute -
Decisions hard to make.

She cautioned me 'bout color:
"Deeper you must look.
Don't focus on the cover
And neglect to read the book.
Turn the pages, look inside.
Get to know them, then decide.
The irony? They're colorblind.
I wish we were, as well."

Their pedigrees impressive,
Eyes mischievous and bright.
One was nearly perfect,
Except that he was white.

A D.Q. in the show ring,
He'd make some breeders frown.
Officially a boxer
Must be painted mostly brown.

I surely didn't want him
With so blatant a defect.
Cull the mismarked puppy!
Mine had to be correct!

And yet that snow white puppy
Was determined to be charming.
He pretzeled into my closed mind.
I found him most disarming.

I reflected on his breeder's words:
"Deeper you must look.
Don't focus on the cover
And neglect to read the book.
Turn the pages, look inside.
Get to know them, then decide.
The irony? They're colorblind.
I wish we were, as well."

He licked my face and nibbled ears,
Bounced like a jumping jack.
Wiggled, wagged, and tugged my pants.
Charisma was his knack.

That ivory pup enchanted me.
In every way, so fine.
Right or wrong in color,
I had to make him mine.

The rulebook says my dog's all wrong,
But that's the AKC.
The standard held within my heart
Says he's just right for me.

Who cares about a show ring
Or ribbons never earned?
He'll be the perfect family pet.
And the lesson I have learned:

When it comes to boxer color:
Deeper you must look.
Don't focus on the cover
And neglect to read the book.
Turn the pages, look inside.
Get to know them, then decide.
The irony? They're colorblind.
I wish we were as smart...
For inside each and every dog
Is a great, big, loving heart.


Reckless Buster
(lyrics ©2004 Kate Connick)

Our dogs were romping, full of play,
On that balmy, autumn day
At the park in town.
We traded gossip, local chat,
When Bob exclaimed, "Oh dear! What's THAT?"
Our heads all swiveled 'round.

There was Johnson, ex-Marine,
Big and strong and shaven clean.
His hands were very full.
He headed toward the gate at speed,
Four-legged muscle on his lead -
Strong as a Brahma bull.

It dragged him to and fro with ease,
Hiked its leg on all the trees.
In disbelief, we stood.
In unison, we dropped our jaws.
Golden brown with ivory paws -
Adonis never looked as good.

Johnson set that boxer free.
It was a shocking sight to see,
Like a demolition burst.
He barreled right into a hound,
Knocked others flat upon the ground.
Maddened owners cursed.

Snorting, contorting, cavorting - reckless as a child.
On the surface, chaos. Countenance most wild.
Don't let him fool you.
There's more than meets the eye.

He ricocheted from pup to pup,
Delivering a roughing-up,
Akin to some earthquakes.
Tucked his butt, ran laps full-tilt.
Like a freight train, he was built -
De-railed and without brakes.

I spilled a latte on my shirt,
Dropped my cell phone in the dirt,
Then fell on my big butt.
Body-slammed and growing bruised,
Patience gone and not amused.
Yelled, "Johnson! Listen up!"

"You fool, you're daft, flat-out insane!
That dog of yours has got no brain.
What an awful beast!
Take a class and get him trained,
Or keep the stupid brute restrained.
Stay outta here, at least!"

The other dogs, they tried to hide
I longed to join them, I'll confide.
Most of my comrades prayed.
First boxer that I'd ever met -
Why on earth have such a pet?
I shook my head, dismayed.

Snorting, contorting, cavorting - reckless as a child.
On the surface, chaos. Countenance most wild.
Don't let him fool you.
There's more than meets the eye.

Just then, the rusted gate, it creaked.
Across the field, the boxer streaked -
Hellbent on an attack.
A mother pushed a stroller through.
We screamed, "He's charging right at you!"
There was no turning back.

"That dog will eat her in her diaper.
He's demented, bold and hyper."
Grim visions of her death.
But then he skidded to a stop.
You could have heard a hairpin drop.
We all held our breath.

He carefully sniffed her little toes,
Wiggled right from stub to nose.
There was no cause for fright.
He licked her cheek to tell her "Hi."
She laughed and poked him in the eye.
His little tail reflected his delight.

She yanked his lip and tugged his ear.
Mother cautioned, "Stop that, dear."
But he just stood his ground.
He lay his chin on her small chest.
And Johnson swooned, "That dog's the best.
Loves having kids around."

Snorting, contorting, cavorting - reckless as a child.
On the surface, chaos. Countenance most wild.
Don't let him fool you.
There's more than meets the eye.

We've come to know good-hearted Buster
Self-control, so hard to muster,
Still not a risk to maul.
He comes on strong; that is a fact
A sweetheart he, but short on tact.
But sometimes aren't we all?

Black and white, no shades of grey.
He can't be any other way.
He is who he must be.
His love is gentle, play is rough.
Heart is fragile, body tough.
Offers no apology.

Passion courses through his cells.
No moderation where he dwells.
Much like an ardent poet.
His life is rich, 'though not too long.
His outlook can't be very wrong.
A lesson there; I know it.

A fixture now at our dog park,
We've come to envy Buster's spark.
A gift from up above.
Funny that in my old age,
A boxer dog should be the sage
To teach of life and love.

Snorting, contorting, cavorting - reckless as a child.
On the surface, chaos. Countenance most wild.
Don't let him fool you.
There's more than meets the eye.


The Sentinel
(lyrics ©2004 Kate Connick)

The family safe, at home, in bed;
Loyal boxer there on guard.
A prowler sneaks his way towards them,
In stealth, across the yard.

This hearing watchdog dreams of toys
Thrown by the family daughter.
Rolls over, yawns, then stumbles out
Toward the kitchen for some water.

Alerted by a careless squeak -
A toy stepped on in the grass.
Muscles tense and ears perk up,
As he looks out through the glass.

Devoted friend, courageous guard,
This sentinel - the best.
But what if real life danger
Put him to the test?
Could the family's simple pet
Defeat an evil guest?

Sneaky menace pries the door,
And enters through the side.
Boxer tip-toes toward him.
The man's preoccupied.

Never knowing he's surveilled,
But not a man that lingers,
He glides right through the darkened house,
Loot held in his deft fingers.

The boxer doesn't understand,
Then suddenly grows bolder
When the prowler fills a pillowcase
And slings it on his shoulder.

Devoted friend, courageous guard,
This sentinel - the best.
Bt what if real life danger
Put him to the test?
Could the family's simple pet
Defeat an evil guest?

Suddenly he comprehends.
He knows how to play tug.
He launches at the burglar,
And knocks him to the rug.

He wrests him all across the floor.
His little stub is spinning.
The family rushes in the room,
And boxer dog is grinning.

Astride the stranger, sack in mouth,
A jolly game of fun.
If only every boring night
Brought this nice man with the gun.

Devoted friend, courageous guard,
This sentinel - the best.
But what if real life danger
Put him to the test?
Perhaps the family's simple pet
Could defeat an evil guest.

Saddened when the men in blue
Leave with his new play mate.
He sleeps a little lighter now,
Ready for another date.
Full of fun and full of play,
But never full of hate.
Fearsome image, puppy's heart -
That's what makes him great.

Devoted friend, courageous guard,
This sentinel - the best.
But what if real life danger
Put him to the test?
The family knows he's on patrol,
And they don't need to know the rest!


Living for Today
(lyrics ©2004 Kate Connick)

Bright eyes blaze with vigor.
Grown up, still full of glee.
Not just a dog, this boxer.
She's true family.

Simple pleasures for a dog:
Your time, your touch, your care.
Important as she is to you,
Life isn't often fair.

You stroke her glossy coat,
Swap a biscuit for a sit,
Observe a swollen blemish,
Suspect it's not a zit.

Sudden sinking sense of loss.
Uncertain now the future.
Hope and fears are intertwined
With veterinary suture.

Don't worry 'bout what could have been,
Or count on what might be.
Celebrate the moment
Right now with you and she.
She lives in the present -
A brilliant gift, I'll say.
This watchdog isn't counting time;
She's living for today.

Priceless is her life.
Prayers that it might be spared.
Glassy-eyed, the vet himself -
You hadn't known he cared.

The verdict in - metastasis.
A crashing sense of dread.
To look into her soft brown eyes,
She's anything but dead.

The mercy of not knowing
Spares her any grief.
She'll live each day until she dies,
No matter if it's brief.

Don't worry 'bout what could have been,
Or count on what might be.
Celebrate the moment
Right now with you and she.
She lives in the present -
A brilliant gift, I'll say.
This watchdog isn't counting time;
She's living for today.

Enrich her life as best you can,
Then face that final choice.
No one knows her better.
She speaks through your voice.

Time to serve her favorite foods,
Get her extra toys,
Play hookey just to take a hike;
Indulge her simple joys.

Cancer's rude reminder -
Make the most of each dog day,
But you don't need a reason
To do it anyway.

When they are gone, we surely grieve
For each lost boxer friend.
Now's our chance to make the most
While we have the time to spend.

Don't worry 'bout what could have been,
Or count on what might be.
Celebrate the moment
Right now with you and she.
She lives in the present -
A brilliant gift, I'll say.
This watchdog isn't counting time;
She's living for today.

It might be weeks; it might be months.
A decade would be nice.
Sick or well, young or old,
There's truth in that advice:

Don't worry 'bout what could have been,
Or count on what might be.
Celebrate the moment
Right now with you and she.
She lives in the present -
A brilliant gift, I'll say.
This watchdog isn't counting time;
She's living for today.


No Prozac
(lyrics ©2004 Kate Connick)

Day one of beginner class -
A slobbering, jumping bean.
Rocky's just a bit high strung,
Like a crackhead on caffeine.
He wiggles, bounces, strains on lead.
His focus, awfully brief.
His owner sucks another Tums
In search of some relief.

A lady has a border collie
That does foreign car repair.
She frowns at hyper Rocky,
Tells his owner, “Don’t despair.”
She doesn't really mean it,
Thinks that Rocky is a fool.
Doesn't get the appeal
Of clothes all wet with drool.

Rocky's owner downs a Prozac,
Chases that regret.
Could have had some other breed
As his chosen pet.

At the obedience trial,
"Forward," says the judge.
Her owner marches out ahead,
But Ginger doesn't budge.
She contemplates airplanes,
Leers at a kid's Big Mac,
Has visions of a poodle
Becoming mid-day snack.

The neighbor with the poodle
That she longs to use as floss
Insists if Ginger runs away,
It wouldn't be a loss.
Fifi knows her logarithms,
Darns the children's socks.
She vows that boxers got their name
For "dumber than a box of rocks."

Ginger's owner downs a Prozac,
Chases that regret.
Could have had some other breed
As her chosen pet.

Agility the outlet
For this lively pup.
"Weave, jump, go tunnel!"
Daisy's eyes lit up.
She bolted like Seattle Slew,
Looped the dismayed crowd -
Deaf to any "come" command
No matter how sweet or loud.

Her instructor's blonde retriever
Is worth its weight in gold.
Has titles up the wazoo,
Isn't even 6 months old.
He sneers at Daisy boxer,
Insists retrievers are the best.
Just can't grasp the reason
To own any of the rest.

Daisy's owner downs a Prozac,
Chases that regret.
Could have had some other breed
As her chosen pet.

These 3 dejected owners
Call on the local shrink,
"Help us cope with these darn dogs,
Or we'll be forced to drink!"
The doctor smiles knowingly,
"Throw away your drugs!
The cure is right beside you
In the form of boxer hugs."

"Who wants a dog that's serious?
Overrated is IQ.
The smartest dog that you can have
Is the one that laughs with you.
It may seem rather flattering
A dog programmed to heed,
But there are more important things.
That's the brilliance of this breed."

"Humor is a gift.
Boxers love to give.
Laugh at him, and at yourself,
And then you'll learn to live!"

The owners flushed their Prozac.
Regrets, they now have none.
While other breeds are sucking up,
Their dogs are having fun!

They'll get them trained, imperfectly.
They've become okay with that.
A dog that has a mind of its own
Is more appealing than Prozac.

The owners flushed their Prozac.
Regrets, they now have none.
While other breeds are sucking up,
Their dogs are having fun!


Boxer Shorts
(lyrics ©2004 Kate Connick)

Her tongue, it drowns my kids in drool.
She snores upon the couch.
She steals their toys and passes wind,
But never is a grouch.

His nose, his stub, they point my way.
His pretzeled happy dance.
The boxers that I value most
Are not my underpants.

They are the same, but just in name.
To swap would be deranged.
Companion dog or lingerie;
They can't be interchanged.

Vocabulary can mislead.
Words tend to confuse.
So listen up, I'll tell you
Which boxers you should choose.

I bought new boxers yesterday.
Limp cotton, not much fun.
They wouldn't chase a ball for me,
Eat treats, or even run.

They are the same, but just in name.
To swap would be deranged.
Companion dog or lingerie;
They can't be interchanged.

Boxer shorts can do the trick
Where a dog would not.
Having Rocky stuffed inside my jeans
Would really be too hot.

Itchy too, and kind of weird.
I imagine that I'd prance
If I wore a boxer dog
In place of underpants.

They are the same, but just in name.
To swap would be deranged.
Companion dog or lingerie;
They can't be interchanged.

My old brindle would object,
Although she thinks I'm dear.
No one really wants to be
That cozy with my rear.

A homonym, this boxers thing -
Different words with the same sound.
Boxer shorts, not boxer dogs
Are the ones to wear around.

They are the same, but just in name.
To swap would be deranged.
Companion dog or lingerie;
They can't be interchanged.

Both kinds of boxers have their place
But do not mix them up.
Undergarments can't compare
With a real, live, boxer pup.

So learn these fine distinctions
Or you might regret
Which boxers you let guard your house
And which you try to pet.


Lap Dog
(lyrics ©2004 Kate Connick)

I'll jump into a heated fray,
Tell the rival, "Make my day!"
Yet whimper on a simple "stay."
I crumble when you walk away.

This breed's image - stern and rough,
And so very wrong.
A boxer can't get close enough.
Your lap's where I belong.

Obedience is kind of weak.
That's my independent streak.
Deep down lies a shameless geek.
When by myself, all looks bleak.

This breed's image - stern and rough,
And so very wrong.
A boxer can't get close enough.
Your lap's where I belong.

I exude athletic power.
Alas, my temperament's not dour.
Time alone, the longest hour.
I'm really just a fragile flower.

This breed's image - stern and rough,
And so very wrong.
A boxer can't get close enough.
Your lap's where I belong.


For Adoption
(lyrics ©2004 Kate Connick)

I said a prayer to St. Bernard.
He turns lost into found.
I languish in this prison cell
At the local pound.

A boxer out there needs you.
She's past the puppy stage.
Heart heavy now and lonely,
Abandoned in her cage.
Breeders are one way to go,
But don't forget adoption.
One thoughtless person's discard
Might be your winning option.

My first home said they loved me,
But not enough, I fear.
When other interests took their time,
They chose to leave me here.

They never taught me manners.
I jump and pull on lead.
Too long, my snout and toenails.
I won't win best-of-breed.

Whenever someone greets me,
I end up being told,
"You're sweet but mighty stinky,
And really just too old."

A boxer out there needs you.
She's past the puppy stage.
Heart heavy now and lonely,
Abandoned in her cage.
Breeders are one way to go,
But don't forget adoption.
One thoughtless person's discard
Might be your winning option.

And so I wait and hope and pray,
Not giving in just yet.
I've heard rumors of a miracle
They call the Internet.

Find a date, a quote, cheap pills,
Or maybe a stray pup.
I keep hoping that the timing's right
And someone looks me up.

Delete the spam, bypass the porn.
This is your reminder.
Go find a homeless boxer
From the listings on Petfinder.

A boxer out there needs you.
She's past the puppy stage.
Heart heavy now and lonely,
Abandoned in her cage.
Breeders are one way to go,
But don't forget adoption.
One thoughtless person's discard
Might be your winning option.


A sample of the comments we've received:

"Fantastic CD!! Every boxer owner/lover should have it!" - Paul & Cheryl W., Aug. 2004 (eBay feedback)

"I LOVE this CD!!!!! One of my BEST purchases EVER!!" (eBay feedback) and "I absolutely love it!!!! I really love, also that you include a copy of the lyrics...I am not sure if I have a favorite yet. Having a white Boxer myself, makes me partial to the white Boxer song, but they are all great!" - Linda M., Aug. 2004 (email)

"I got the CD today... call me silly, but it brought a tear to my eye. What a beautiful boy... I would have to have the CD even if it was full of rap songs... just to have the cover! (front and back!) I know you are good at writing... but gee whiz! I can't believe your lyrics. I am just in awe... I have to admit, I've not listened to all the music yet...I am afraid I am going to cry after reading the words to a couple of them. But I am going to do it today... and I'll give you the full report. And I'll need to put in an order for Christmas gifts... :)" - Laurie L., Aug. 2004 (email)

"I gotta tell you Living For Today has caused a STREAM of tears! ...I find this CD absolutely fabulous! Oh how you two can nail a breed! What a gift you have for words, Kate." - Gail B., Aug. 2004 (email)

 


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