Winston Churchill had a black dog

his name was written on it

It followed him around from town to town

It’d bring him down

took him for a good long ride

took him for a good look around ( Mombassa: Black dog)

No company’s more hateful than your own

You dodge and give yourself the slip; you seek

In bed or in your cups from care to sneak

In vain: the black dog follows you and hangs

Close on your flying skirts with hungry fangs. ( The satires, epistles, and Art of Poetry of Horace)

 Come over here black dog and

I’ll pat you on your head

you’ve been following me for a good long time

I guess you must be my friend

I guess you must be my good friend

I don’t wan you to be my friend no more black dog:

I don’t want you to come around. (Paul Foley)