TO TWEED UPON HIS NATAL DAY

It were a day obv note indeed
When Missus Shaw hatched liddle Tweed.
His visage gived her an attack!
She yelled, "It's ugly! Put it back!
Or smash it wif a fryin' pan!
Don' let it grow to be a man!"

But luckily Tweed's Paw said, "No.
Th' dawg needs a playmate." And so
They took li'l Tweed back to their home
An' fed him Moonpies an' cornpone
An' collard greens an' ripe bananer
Back in th' hills of Indianer.

One day Tweed hurd sum Delta blues
An' said, "Man! This stuff really rules!
I think I'll get me a geetar
An' see if I can be a star."
But fame escaped him, so they say,
An' so he moved to Floreeday.

Now Tweed's where winters ain't too hard
An' buzzards roost in his backyard.
He is First Duck of Mississippi,
Tha's quite a gig fer an ol' hippie.
He hosts "Tweed's Blues" an', when it's dead,
Insults us on that MOAB thread.

So Happy Birfday to ya, Tweed!
How many of 'em habv you see'd?
We hope ya hang fer a few more,
'Cause this place shore wud be a bore
Wiffout yore sorry ass in it.
Tweed! Mudcat's favo-rite half-wit!