P.c. Taff Sydenham

Taff with Police Dog Wotan

A DOBE CALLED ‘PIDDLING PETE’

by

Taff Sydenham

You’ve heard about the villains

Who roamed the old Wild West.

You’ve heard about their marksmanship

Twas shooting at its best.

There were heroes, there were villains

Whose lives were short and sweet.

But none could match the swiftness

Of a Dobe, called ‘Piddling Pete’.

A hero or a villain,

Call him what you wish.

His organ was his pistol

His ammunition, guess (his piss).

His accuracy uncanny,

His movement swift and neat,

He could hit a poodle in the eye

At a range of twenty feet.

Now life had been hard for Pete.

He’d never known his Dad

And every morsel he devoured

He fought for all he had.

He roamed around ol’ London

Until his feet were raw.

Fighting for his existence

And always evading the Law.

From Wembley down to Clapham

He roamed around quite free

‘Til captured down in Streatham

And taken to Battersea.

The kennel staff were wary

When Pete was around

And when they dared approach him

They wouldn’t make a sound.

For Pete was a crafty devil

And easily upset

And he’d cock his leg up

And squirt his deadly jet.



His aim was swift and deadly

No-one quite knew why.

Then a poor old kennel man

Would get one in the eye

Things became quite serious

Behind the Dogs’ Home door

And the kennel staff all threatened

To pack their bags and go.

The Super’, he was livid,

“I’ll cure the dirty sod!”

He then went out into the yard

With a lead and a four foot rod.

But Pete saw him coming,

Twas a matter of life or death

So he drank 2 pints of water

And then he held his breath.

The Super, looked around the yard,

His face was red with rage.

When suddenly Pete appeared

From behind a clump of sage.

“I’ve got you”, cried the Super’,

With his rod held high.

But Pete, he beat him to the draw

With a jet straight in his eye.

The Super’ toppled over

And lay prone upon the grass.

Then Pete trundled over

And bit him on the ass.

The Dogs’ Home staff just cringed with fright

Behind the office door.

They could see the poor Super’

Motionless on the floor.

Pete was strutting round him

At an aimless pace

And every time the Super’ moved

He’d piss right in his face.

The staff by now, were quite aware

That Pete was getting madder

And watched Pete run to the trough

To refill his empty bladder.

Back to the Super’ then he’d go

Other dogs he would ignore.

Then he’d piss all over the Super’

Lying helpless on the floor.

One of the first search dogs
UK Police Dog History