To celebrate the first new arrival to my camel-breeding program, a young camel just born, I've commissioned an illustration from my good friend Mr. Jerome Sidebottom, Esq., 'artist-at-large' in these regions. Hmm, 'artist-at-large' sounds rather like the illusive black panther that I've been seeking to capture. Not as ferocious, however. Anyway, here in all it's glory is my adoratum to my faithful companion of many moons, my dear Colette of the Royal Camel Corps.
-small.JPG)
Oh dear, the thought of that sweet old camel brings a tear to the eye. Yes, she's still with me, but getting on a bit now. She's a bit of a grumpy old grandma, but is still good with the littlies, camel and human. Makes me want to break into song, so here's a little ditty of my own. It's one I scribbled down on the verge of my retirement from the RCC. Feel free to singalong!
(Refrain)
Dear sweet Colette, I’ll never forget
Those times we spent together.
But dear Colette, I’ll always regret
Leaving you at the end of your tether.
Deep in the desert, hear my call
Your Colonel has not forgotten you at all.
‘Cross windswept sands I hear your voice
But for leaving you, I was left no choice.
If I could see once more those amusing eyes
You standing tall under that bluest of skies.
I would ask you again to be my desert guide
And on your rolling body I would lovingly ride.
Dear sweet Colette, I’ll never forget
Those times we spent together.
But dear Colette, I’ll always regret
Leaving you at the end of your tether.
I remember balmy nights camped at some wadi
You and I sharing the last of my hot toddy.
Then to bed ‘neath stars, till the coolness of the dawn
Queen of the desert, I’m still your king, your knight, your pawn.
So, deep in the desert, Colette, hear my call
Your Colonel has not forgotten you at all.
‘Cross windswept sands I hear your voice
Oh, but for leaving you, I was left no choice.
Dear sweet Colette, I’ll never forget
Those times we spent together.
But dear Colette, I’ll always regret
Leaving you at the end of your tether.
