Written by a lovely man called Mick Quinn from Mullaghbawn in Northern Ireland.

This is as much as I can decipher from the laughter on a (very)live recording! I'll fill in the gaps if possible.

Regards
*****
THE MAN WHO SHOT ME DOG
(Mick Quinn)

I was born a collie sheep dog with a white ring round my neck
For nine days my eyes were closed, I couldn't see a speck
I had three lovely sisters and me the only boy
And for six long weeks we played around - our mother's pride and joy

Till a gentleman from Mullaghbawn to me a fancy took
Well he stroked me in his arms and my master and he shook
They put me in the motor car and then headed for the road
And in less than twenty minutes I was in my new abode

Now the first thing my new family did was to look for me a name
Well they called me this and they called me that and they sounded just the same
Until my master came round the house and this to me he said
Consider now yourself a dog - in truth your name is Ned

Well the months rolled on and I grew up and I learned to do my chores
I growled at postmen, soldiers - likewise the man next door
I rounded sheep and cattle and they said I was a treat
And before I jumped into the car, I always washed my feet!

Oftimes sure I grew lonesome and I longed to have a pal
So I met this big black labrador, she said her name was Sal
She said she too was lonesome but she had papers and a pedigree
"Oh that ain't a problem, Sal, you just leave that to me!"

When her master overheard the news, and found out with her I'd slept
We did not use protection, so across the fence he leapt
Saying you country tailed black so-and-so from behind in Moore Park
I'll stop your gallivanting round this place after dark.

With his gun up to his shoulder a careful aim he took
And the noise that then came out of it the valley round it shook
I felt my hide a-burning as the bullets stroked my head
And that's what happened to the dog that belonged to Mickil Ned

Well my master over heard the news and it happened just by luck
He stepped up to this gunman and he said "You Newry Niuk!"
He let him have a one two three straight in the old physog
Saying" that's the medicine I dish out to a man who'd shoot me dog"

They took me to my kennel and on the straw I lie
And I hear the neighbours asking will poor Ned live or die
My master he's so lonesome as he sits and strokes my head
And these are some of the things he says about the man that shot the dog

May scabs like crabs grow up in slabs round everything he feels
And snotters grow down to his toes and cracks grow on his heels
May his hair fall out and his woman pout and his fart smell like a hog
And the devils luck fall on that Newry nyuk , the man that shot me dog

May piles surround his big backside like strawberries on their stalk
And every time that he aims his gun, that his stomach it may baulk
And as he goes a hunting over heather hill and bog
May diarrhoea skite with all its might from the man who shot my dog

So to conclude and finish I.... once more ????
And I feel this urge coming over me as I did that night before
So I'll slip out one dark night in a very thick mist or a fog
And I'll leave another half a dozen pups with the man that shot me dog.