"'Twas 1932 I came, without a past, without a name

And they put me with a little pal

And named me Carlo and named him Al.

We played all day to my delight

And snuggled warm as toast at night.

As he grew up to be a boy

He kept me still his favourite toy.

And time went by and Al got older

But I still slept quite near his shoulder.

But the day came when I lost my pride,

He brought home a lovely bride.

She climbed the stairs and saw our bed,

'"This dog must go," she strictly said.

"He can't stop here, he must not view

The private things that we might do."

So she picked me up and like Jack Horner

Pushed me in a wardrobe corner.

I've been in there for 40 years,

Silent sobs and un-wet tears.

But thanks to Aunty BBC

She opened the box and set me free."