The Tonight Show Starring Johnny Carson

Season 27 Episode 105

Show #4032

Aired Weekdays 11:35 PM Sep 07, 1989 on NBC
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Show #4032

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    Trivia, Notes, Quotes and Allusions


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    • QUOTES (1)

      • "Beau"
        by Jimmy Stewart

        He never came to me when I would call
        Unless I had a tennis ball,
        Or he felt like it,
        But mostly he didn't come at all.
        When he was young
        He never learned to heel
        Or sit or stay,
        He did things his way.

        Discipline was not his bag
        But when you were with him things sure didn't drag.
        He'd dig up a rosebush just to spite me,
        And when I'd grab him, he'd turn and bite me.

        He bit lots of folks from day to day,
        The delivery boy was his favorite prey.
        The gas man wouldn't read our meter,
        He said we owned a real man-eater.

        He set the house on fire
        But the story's long to tell.
        Suffice it to say that he survived
        And the house survived as well.

        On the evening walks, and Gloria took him,
        He was always first out the door.
        The Old One and I brought up the rear
        Because our bones were sore.

        He would charge up the street with Mom hanging on,
        What a beautiful pair they were!
        And if it was still light and the tourists were out,
        They created a bit of a stir.

        But every once in a while, he would stop in his tracks
        And with a frown on his face look around.
        It was just to make sure that the Old One was there
        And would follow him where he was bound.

        We are early-to-bedders at our house--
        I guess I'm the first to retire.
        And as I'd leave the room he'd look at me
        And get up from his place by the fire.

        He knew where the tennis balls were upstairs,
        And I'd give him one for a while.
        He would push it under the bed with his nose
        And I'd fish it out with a smile.

        And before very long
        He'd tire of the ball
        And be asleep in his corner
        In no time at all.

        And there were nights when I'd feel him
        Climb upon our bed
        And lie between us,
        And I'd pat his head.

        And there were nights when I'd feel this stare
        And I'd wake up and he'd be sitting there
        And I reach out my hand and stroke his hair.
        And sometimes I'd feel him sigh and I think I know the reason why.

        He would wake up at night
        And he would have this fear
        Of the dark, of life, of lots of things,
        And he'd be glad to have me near.

        And now he's dead.
        And there are nights when I think I feel him
        Climb upon our bed and lie between us,
        And I pat his head.

        And there are nights when I think
        I feel that stare
        And I reach out my hand to stroke his hair,
        But he's not there.

        Oh, how I wish that wasn't so,
        I'll always love a dog named Beau.

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