That’s a wonderful Lurcher you have Mrs Bryant.
I haven’t seen as big a one since long before the war.
Can you make it roll about, play dead or beg a biscuit?
Wink it’s eye or shake your hand by sticking out its paw?
“Actually” said the nubile Mrs Bryant, whose dresses
generally ended 6 inches below her waist, “it’s not a
Lurcher, it’s a Dane.”
“Gettaway. that’s a Lurcher, my father kept them
When I was a lad.” Sam called to a passerby
“Is that a Lurcher or a Dane, I ask you”
“Looks like a Lurcher” said the fellow,
“She wears very short dresses,”
“I know a damn Lurcher when I
Sam addressed the brute.
“Are you Dane or Lurcher?”
“Dane”! said one of the dogs heads
“Lurcher”! said the other.