Muttshuttle Songs

 

(not an actual mutshuttle) 

When I posted my remembrance of my long-time friend, Peyton Coyner, I included "Muttshuttle Man", his parody of Billy Joel's "Piano Man.  Apparently, those long hauls up and down the East Coast were pretty inspirational.  Here are all of the other parodies he wrote during his travels.  

I copied the lyrics from Peyton's emails so the formatting and spacing varies somewhat.   Also included links to the original music and lyrics for those who may not be familiar with the originals.

 

My Dog

(apologies to Smokey Robinson)

I've got teeth marks on a table leg.
When it rains outside, I’ve got “walkies” anyway.
I guess you'd say
What can make me bitch this way?
My dog (my dog, my dog)
Talkin' 'bout my dog (my dog).

I've got so much hair now the bears envy me.
It’s in my sweaters, my soup and the air that I breathe.
I guess you'd say
What can make me whine this way?
My dog (my dog, my dog)
Talkin' 'bout my dog (my dog).

Hey hey hey
Hey hey hey
Ooh

I don't have no money, fortune, or fame.
Vet got all the riches, baby, I had to my name.
I guess you'd say
What can make me growl this way?
My dog (my dog, my dog)
Talkin' 'bout my dog (my dog).

I've got white hair on a black wool vest.

With my dog.

But, Lord, you know, she’s just the best
That’s my dog

music and original lyrics 

 

Barely Fed Hillbilly Hound

(apologies to Lester Flat and Earl Scruggs)

Come and listen to my story ‘bout a dog named Jed,

Kept on a chain and hardly ever fed,

Served up a minimum of water, care and food,

Mostly what he got was babblin’ crude.

 

Cussin’, that is.  Foulmouth.  Redneck eloquence.

 

First thing you know, ol’ Jed’s a bag of bones.

His owner said, “Won’t hunt.  Better find hisself a home.”

He dumped him in the woods and Jed was in a fix,

Covered all over now with chiggers, fleas and ticks.

 

Parasites, that is.  Pestilence.  Tiny vampires.

 

Well, this here story ends on a happier note.

The shelter folks got Jed and debugged his ol’ coat.

They fed him up real good – you all should come and see

What those fine folks dish out: canine hospitality.

 

Frontline, that is.  Shots.  Kibble.

 

Y’all come on down, now, ya hear?

 

music and original lyrics link

 

No-One-Sees-Me-Ville

(apologies to Jimmy Buffet)

Munchin’ cheap kibble
But can’t get a nibble
From all of those ‘dopters looking to buy
They pass by my pen here

As if I was stale beer,

Or a heap of old shrimp too rotten to fry.

Chorus:
Wastin’ away again in no-one-sees-me-ville

Searching for some way to get bought
Some people claim that there's a breeder to blame
But I know it's nobody’s fault

I don't know the reason
I stayed here all season
Nothin to show but this mange, which I chew.
But it's a real beauty
All over my booty
How it got here I haven't a clue.

Chorus:
Wastin away again in no-one-sees-me-ville

Searching for some way to get bought
Some people claim that there's a breeder to blame
Now I think
Hell, it could be my fault

I ran outta good luck
And here’s where I got stuck
Snagged by a dog catcher way far from home

But there's mutts in this slammer

And soon they will yammer
That ear-splitting din that helps us hang on

Wastin away again in no-one-sees-me-ville

Searching for some way to get bought
Some people claim that there's a breeder to blame

But I know it's sure not my fault
Yes and some people claim that there's a breeder to blame
And I know it's sure not my fault

music and original lyrics link

 

Born In The County Pound

(apologies to Bruce Springsteen)

Born down in a full up pound
The first kick I took was when I hit the ground
You end up like a dog that's been beat too much
Till you spend half your life just covering up

Born in the county pound, I was born in the county pound
I was born in the county pound, born in the county pound.

Got in a little hometown stir
So they put a chain around my fur
Dragged me off to a fighting school
To turn me into a killing tool

Born in the county pound, I was born in the county pound
I was born in the county pound, born in the county pound.

Come back soon to the SPCA
‘Doption girl said “There ain’t no way.

He’s just too rough and mighty mean
To make it here in the rescue scene.”

 

I had a brother at Michael Vick’s
Trained by bullies – wasn’t for long
They're still there, he's all gone

Down in the shadow of the dumpster here
Or out in the woods tryin’ to catch a deer.
I'm four years burning down the road
Nowhere to run aint got nowhere to go

Born in the county pound, I was born in the county pound

Born in the county pound, I'm a long gone pit bull from the county pound
Born in the county pound, I was born in the county pound
Born in the county pound, I'm a cool rocking pit bull from the county pound

 music and original lyrics link

 

I Want My Doggers Here

(apologies to Mark Knofler)

Now look at them drivers - that's the way you do it
You shuttle mutts up to New Jersey
That ain't workin' that's the way you do it
Puppies for nothin' and your mutts for free

Now that ain't workin' that's the way you do it
Lemme tell ya them guys ain't dumb
Maybe get a blister on your wheel hand
Maybe get a callus on your bum

We gotta install Rottweiller pups there
Custom shelter deliveries
We gotta move these cross-breeding Beagles
We gotta move these little Shelties

(See the poodle with the full coif and the blow dry
Yeah buddy that’s his own hair
That little poodle got his own big cage there
That little poodle needs a lotta care)

We gotta install Rottweiller pups there
Custom shelter deliveries
We gotta move these cross-breeding Beagles
We gotta move these little Shelties

 

I shoulda learned to drive the big trucks
I shoulda learned to drive the van
Look at that Pit Bull, she got it stickin' in the cage door
Just flirtin’ ‘cause she can.

And he's up there, what's that? Rock station noises?
Increase the volume like a chimpanzee
That ain't workin' that's the way you do it
Get your puppies for nothin' get your mutts for free

We gotta install Rottweiller pups there
Custom shelter deliveries
We gotta move these cross-breeding Beagles
We gotta move these little Shelties

Look a' here
That ain't workin' that's the way you do it
You shuttle mutts up to New Jersey
That ain't workin' that's the way you do it
Puppies for nothin' get your mutts for free

 

Puppies for nothin' get your mutts for free
Puppies for nothin' get your mutts for free

Look at that, look at that
Puppies for nothin' get your mutts for free
I want my, I want my, I want my doggers here
Money for nothin' and chicks for free
(Fade)
Puppies for nothin' get your mutts for free

music and original lyrics link

 

Battle Hymn of the Formerly Blind Muttshuttler

(You know the tune)

 

Mine eyes have seen the mists and fog of cataracts, alas,

I’ve stumbled and I’ve fallen down upon my sorry (bottom),

Unable to start my chain saw, drive, or even mow the grass,

For months not marching on.

 

Glory, glory, Harman Eye Center,

Glory, glory, Harman Eye Center,

Glory, glory, Harman Eye Center,

I’m back to shuttling mutts!

 

Harman himself has fixed the thing with scalpel in his hand,

He’s loosed the fearful homeless mutts right into the van

I’ll drive ‘em up to Jersey now because at last I can,

They’re finally marching on!

 

Glory, glory, howlelujah,

Glory, glory, howlelujah,

Glory, glory, howlelujah,

I’m back to shuttling mutts!

 

 

Snob Dogs of London

(apologies to Warren Zevon)

 

I saw a Min Pin with a menu in his mouth

Walkin' through the streets of Soho in the fog

He was lookin' for a place called John Bull Pets

Gonna get a big dish of “Bangermash For Dogs”

Aaahoo! Snob dogs of London 

Aaahoo! Aaahoo! 

Snob dogs of London 

Aaahoo!

Ya hear him howlin' around your kitchen door

Ya better not let him in

Little old Lay-Z-Boy mutilated late last night

Snob dogs of London again

Aaahoo! Snob dogs of London 

 Aaahoo! Aaahoo! 

Snob dogs of London 

Aaahoo!

It's the fully-coiffed breeds, who ran amok in Leeds

Lately they’ve been overheard in Mayfair

You better stay away from them

They'll rip your socks off, Jim

Huh, I'd like to meet their barber

Aaahoo! Snob dogs of London

Aaahoo! Aaahoo! 

Snob dogs of London 

Aaahoo!

Well, I saw a wee Corgi walkin' with the Queen

Doin' the snob dogs of London

Named “Cheney, Jr.” ‘cause ‘e’s so bloody mean

Doin' the snob dogs of London

I saw a Pommipoo drinkin' a Perrier at Trader Vic's

And his hair was perfect

Aaahoo! Snob dogs of London

Aaahoo! Aaahoo! 

Snob dogs of London 

Aaahoo!

 

music and original lyrics link

 

Alas, there will be no more of these.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Peyton Coyner (1946-2025)

Carol & Peyton in 2016

My friend, Peyton Coyner, died May 16. He was just shy of 79. We met as college students at the University of Virginia in 1969, were both Rolling Stones fans and partied together during my senior year. He was the only person I knew in Charlottesville when I returned to graduate school in 1972 after military service.  He patiently listened to my stories of Vietnam and helped me become a civilian again.  Our friendship deepened based on shared values, including a strong dislike of Richard Nixon. In 73-74 we were neighbors a few miles apart on Old Lynchburg Road.  We spent much time at one house or the other.  That was the year Peyton was dating his future wife, Carol, beginning a relationship that would more than half a century. 

 

Our friendship continued after I moved to Richmond in 1974. I was a frequent visitor to the home he shared with Carol in Crozet while he began planning to build a house in rural Nelson County. He was aghast when I decided to move to Phoenix, Arizona in 1982 (“Why would you want to live in that hell hole?” was more or less what he asked. I’m not sure I had a satisfactory answer but I went anyway.) One of my biggest concerns was how the move would affect a friendship that had evolved into family-adjacent territory. I needn’t have worried. Peyton became a regular correspondent, sending cards, clippings, pictures and song parodies. His letters and cards (envelopes, too) were works of art, generously illustrated with rubber stamp images and the occasional sketch. Along with the regular correspondence, he and Carol welcomed me on many return trips to Virginia to visit friends. Their home became my anchor to Virginia.

During those years our friendship deepened despite the almost 3,000 miles between us. Peyton may have thought Phoenix was a hell hole but he loved southern Utah and I traveled there with him several times. We car camped in Zion and Bryce Canyon National Parks and other points in 1995 and canoed the Green River through Labyrinth Canyon the following year. (He taught me how to steer a canoe on that trip.) In 1999 he joined my brother and me rafting the San Juan River. A few years later he was one of my primary Trail Angels when I hiked the Appalachian Trail. After hearing my description of trail magic (people serving food and drink to hikers on the AT) Peyton began doing the same at the Tye River crossing not far from his home. In 2011 he visited Olympia and we camped three nights at Mt. Rainier National Park. We canoed the Okeefenokee Swamp in 2014.

Peyton was always willing to share himself, whether through his fine stained glass artistry or community service. His house was filled with his glass creations; many other creations made their way to friends’ homes (including mine). During a long retirement beginning in the mid-1990s Peyton helped establish and construct the Almost Home Animal Shelter that dramatically increased adoption rates in Nelson County. He continued his commitment to animal rescue by driving animals from Virginia as far north as Boston for adoption(“mutt shuttles”) and he regularly transported injured animals to local wildlife centers. He was instrumental in converting the abandoned Blue Ridge Railroad right-of-way to a hiking, biking and horseback riding trail along the Piney River in southern Nelson County. In 2005 he volunteered to repair damage in Mississippi after Hurricane Katrina. On a smaller scale, Peyton kept the Rockfish River clear of boating hazards; one canoe trip I took with him involved cutting “strainers” out of the way, a task that occasionally sent up rooster-tails of water when his chainsaw blade cut below the surface.

My world is diminished with Peyton’s passing but the loss, while particularly acute at the moment, in no way diminishes the joy and companionship that he brought to my life. I am fortunate to have shared so many years of friendship with him.

Peyton was a fine man and good friend. I will miss him.

The best epitaph I can offer is Peyton’s own words. It’s one of many parodies and speaks to the kind of person he was.

Mutt Shuttle Man (w/ apologies to Billy Joel.) 

 

It's six a.m. on a Saturday
As the regular crowd shuffles in
There's an Amherst gal working next to me
Stuffin’ pups in a plastic cage pen
She says, "Man, do you think these are Rotties here?
I'm not really sure if they are,
But they’re sad and they’re sweet and they got damn big feet
They’ll be lucky to fit in the car."

La la la, di de da
La la, di de da da dum

Chorus:
Bring us some dogs, you’re Mutt Shuttle Man
Bring us some dogs today
Well, we're all in the mood for some Malamutes
Bring some Beagles and Blue Ticks our way.

Now the New Jersey shelters have friendly folk,
And they get all our puppies for free
Most will quickly be sold, but down here dogs grow old
While there's some place that they'd rather be.
They’d say, "Lord, I believe they’ll be killing me."
As the wag fades away from their tail
"Well, I'm sure I could be a great lap dog
If I could get out of this jail."

La la la, di de da
La la, di de da da dum

Oh, I seem an interstate junkie now
Who never has time for his wife
Haulin’ hounds small and big, I am stuck with this gig
And probably will be for life
And the waitresses don’t share my politics
Other drivers all seem to be stoned
As they're phonin’ and textin’ and tweetin’,
Guess it's better than dying alone.

Chorus
Bring us some dogs, you’re Mutt Shuttle Man
Bring us some dogs today
Well, we're all up here looking for Pointers,
Bring some Shelties and Shepherds our way.

It's a pretty good crowd for a van load
And the shelter guy gives me a smile
'Cause he knows that it's me who’ll help mop up the pee
While we stretch out some lives for a while
And the van, it sounds full of carnivores
And the steering wheel smells just like fleas
And the folks at the charities laugh at my parodies
And say, "Man, why are you writin' these?"

Oh, la la la, di de da
La la, di de da da dum

Chorus:
Bring us some dogs, you’re Mutt Shuttle Man
Bring us some dogs today
Well, we've all got our hearts set on Labradors
Bring some Dobies and Dachshunds our way