Saturday, Saturday, I was glad,

to go strolling with my dad

and our dog, a sleek black lab.

My brother sleeping, mum on the phone

I climbed the stairs on my own

ready to go down Cambie Street

after Dad snapped me in my seat.

Pushing the stroller with his right

dog on leash in the other hand tight

off went we, happy as could be

Dad singing a song for me.

Yes we stopped along the way

to check if Tarr-dog would obey

for safety, a dog must be still

when we reached, Vancouver Hill.

At the north end of Cambie Street

I was excited, I kicked my feet

Boy-o-boy what a thrill

right near the middle of Vancouver Hill.

Looking both ways for motor bikes,

big trucks, fast cars and the like, clear of traffic, oh so nice

I know 'cause Dad looked both ways twice.

Surprise, surprise, and a thrill, I saw a bunny very still,

on the left side of the hill.

Watching the road , as was his habit

Dad didn’t see the small gray rabbit.

Suddenly gray rabbit bounded.

Tarr Dog jerked, my dad floundered

pulled by Tarr dog's rocket start, away I went in my cart.

Stroller Stroller on the go, my Dad wailing Oh No NO!

Rabbit racing in the led, I followed the dog gaining speed

Boy - boy Oh what fun; racing stroller on the run.

Halfway down the sidewalk hill, a big bump gave another thrill

I flew from sidewalk to the road, all by my self — three years old.

Car brakes squealed, trucks pulled over, A yelling dad snow white sober heart-pounding dad, running fast, terrified today would be my last.

Past Brett’s great-grand-dad’s Hillside home

Speeding wide eyed on my own, behind me Ah! a fearsome moan.

Now on the level, past the store, dog and rabbit I saw no more

Ding-dong-bell Did my dad yell!

Ding-dong Thump, another bump

Down-side up in the air, Gave me a great big scare

Upside down I pressed a snap.. the stroller floated from my back.

In front of me, I saw a man, opening a big white van

Holy Catfish, oh what luck, I landed in a laundry truck

On my back, on fluffy pillows, on three times seven fresh washed pillows.

For seven seconds, I lay prone, confused, unhappy, on my own

Then I heard a mighty cry, and spied I, with my little eye,

Dad exhaling a prayerful sigh worried look upon his face was he cross I'd won the race?

After the van screeched away, I heard a gray haired lady say

She was angry yelling, yelling dad was “Bad!”

to allow his wee blond lad, On the road! all alone!

Far from Home, in a danger zone!

Some time later we found my dog, sleeping , contented, most care free-leash tangled in a bushy-tree, down the slope on Townley.

Slowly, homeward from our walk. Dad was quiet, he didn't talk.

I couldn’t wait to tell my mum, Vancouver Hill was so much fun

And a lady yelled at dad thinking me a wee blond lad

Why was she so annoyed, didn't she know I was boy?

 Next Saturday dad put the cart away and we walked another way.

Our morning jaunt, it was OK. We walked the old KVR line

saw two quails, that was fine;

but two gray birds don't give much a thrill...

David Snyder