The dog had been with him nearly every trip
He used to rest his team in the shade as they took a sip
One day he asked the dog what would happen if they stayed
And built a saloon where easy money could be made
No one could remember the year it all began
No one standing had escaped the feel of his hand
Aspens dropped their leaves early that fall
When the saloon was built he made himself the law
She had come along asking for a place to please
To be built out back nestled in the trees
He obliged her with four rooms that barely held a bed
He added a tub, a porch and a front door painted red
To him she was another answer to his need
The harder she worked, the more he had to feed
Then he asked her to be his and alone his delight
She sent for sisters to replace her in the night
Was the fall of ’78 or so the story goes
Wagons full of freight parked in the early snow
The lady’s face was lost in her shawl
And frozen curses flew up the canyon walls
She still lived in the only house out back
In her shadow the dog left his track
Greeted men and boys without respect
The yella dog was always there to protect
The saloon was a mean place you can bet
In a little draw around the hill so many markers set
So often it meant your life when you gave a look
At the ladies on someone else’s hook
That day he left early on a run to Cedarville
He needed more whiskey and wood from up the hill
His feed, staples and supplies were getting low
This story really happened while he drove
Up on the crest nobody knows exactly where
They hit an ambush, something unexpected, but not so rare
They came on home, the team slowed then everybody saw
The yella dog lay on the bench his head on his paw
You can guess the story and the rest
The dog had taken the bullet in his chest
Tied around his neck the bandana ran rose red
A big tear-stained glove softly stroked that golden head
He carved a plank then placed it on the door
This name changed nothing about the lore
The Yella Dog Saloon still went to history
As a place well known for its misery
What’s left of the trace is on the TD
The canyon walls echo less violently
The aspens still grow serving as a vale
The spring runs cold for those on the trail
Come to the ranch house for directions to the site
Be ready for what happens if you spend the night
Take that road and pray you have a moon
Under the stars near the Ol’ Yella Dog Saloon
He used to rest his team in the shade as they took a sip
One day he asked the dog what would happen if they stayed
And built a saloon where easy money could be made
No one could remember the year it all began
No one standing had escaped the feel of his hand
Aspens dropped their leaves early that fall
When the saloon was built he made himself the law
She had come along asking for a place to please
To be built out back nestled in the trees
He obliged her with four rooms that barely held a bed
He added a tub, a porch and a front door painted red
To him she was another answer to his need
The harder she worked, the more he had to feed
Then he asked her to be his and alone his delight
She sent for sisters to replace her in the night
Was the fall of ’78 or so the story goes
Wagons full of freight parked in the early snow
The lady’s face was lost in her shawl
And frozen curses flew up the canyon walls
She still lived in the only house out back
In her shadow the dog left his track
Greeted men and boys without respect
The yella dog was always there to protect
The saloon was a mean place you can bet
In a little draw around the hill so many markers set
So often it meant your life when you gave a look
At the ladies on someone else’s hook
That day he left early on a run to Cedarville
He needed more whiskey and wood from up the hill
His feed, staples and supplies were getting low
This story really happened while he drove
Up on the crest nobody knows exactly where
They hit an ambush, something unexpected, but not so rare
They came on home, the team slowed then everybody saw
The yella dog lay on the bench his head on his paw
You can guess the story and the rest
The dog had taken the bullet in his chest
Tied around his neck the bandana ran rose red
A big tear-stained glove softly stroked that golden head
He carved a plank then placed it on the door
This name changed nothing about the lore
The Yella Dog Saloon still went to history
As a place well known for its misery
What’s left of the trace is on the TD
The canyon walls echo less violently
The aspens still grow serving as a vale
The spring runs cold for those on the trail
Come to the ranch house for directions to the site
Be ready for what happens if you spend the night
Take that road and pray you have a moon
Under the stars near the Ol’ Yella Dog Saloon