It starts in his mind and it runs out behind
To the tip of his tail, and then
That glad little waggle, that gay little wiggle
Begins all over again.
The day may be sunny or dark with rain,
The wiggle is there just the same;
It needs just a whistle to set it a-wiggle
Or the sound of his favorite name.
No doubt I shall never, in any way ever
Find out how that wiggle got there,
But I'm very sure, while tails shall endure,
That tail will wig-wag in the air!
Arthur Wallace Peach
All the Best Dog Poems