I always thought of Elvis Presley as the “Hound Dog Man,” but apparently, there was The Original from Ozark County, Missouri.
Walsenburg, Colo., March 4.— “I’m it. The original hound dawg man.' 'I writ it and I'm running away."
Yelling like a Piute Indian on the warpath. "Lige" Spencer of Ozark county Mo., swung his team of mules off the Santa Fe trail into the main street of Walsenburg today and pulled up before "wet" cafe, with the announcement that he was the "poet of the Ozarks" and the man who wrote the famous "dawg song."
A piebald coon dog had ambled into town ahead of Spencer and his team and went to sleep in the roadway in front of the mules almost as soon as the team came, to a stop. "That dawg," and Lige pointed at the sleeping hound as he unfolded his six feet two of body to get down from his wagon seat, "that dawg was the inspiration of the most famous song that ever was written, for he is the best coon dog that ever chased a ringtail into a scrub oak. And still further, I can lick, out run, out jump or out wrestle any man who starts kickin’ him around."
As no one seemed anxious to take Spencer's challenge, he climbed onto his wagon seat, cracked his whip and with his mules and the hound disappeared in the direction opposite from which they entered town.
End of Article
Another Article a Few Weeks Later...
DENVER, -Col, March 23,—The man that "writ" the houn’ dawg song—or claims that he did—has escaped. He passed through Walsenburg, Col. The other day, according to a veracious account from that place printed in the Denver News. The houn’ dawg poet seems to have found life in Missouri a little too strenuous, both before and after he perpetrated the famous song which friends of Champ Clark are turning to political account at the forks of the creek. The author, it appears, couldn't make the boys “quit kickin' his dawg aroun” and after fighting until he was tired he hitched up and took the trail for the West. The Walsenburg story follows:
“I’m it—the original houn’ dawg man. I writ it, and I'm runnin' away." Yelling like a Piute Indian on the war trail, “Lige” Spencer of Ozark County, Missouri, swung his team of mules off the Santa Fe trail into the main street of Walsenburg on a recent afternoon and pulled up before the Greenlight saloon, with the announcement that he was the poet of the Ozarks and the man who wrote the famous "Dawg Song." A piebald coon dog had ambled into town ahead of the procession and went to sleep in front of the mules almost as soon as they came to a stop.
BEST COON DAWG IN OZARKS.
"That dawg,” said Lige pointed at the sleeping hound, as he pulled up his 6 feet 2 of cadaverous body—"that dawg, gentlemen, was the inspiration of the most famous song that was ever writ, and further-he is the best and onlyest coon dawg that ever chased a ringtail into a scrub oak, and still further, I can lick, outrun, or out jump, or out wrastle any man -who starts to kickin' him."
A crowd quickly collected around Spencer and his outfit. One of the bystanders asked him how he came to write the dog song. Spencer looked in a tired way at his questioner, "Sah, ther's just one thing that will make a man from the mountains of Missouri talk straight, and that is squirrel whisky, and inasmuch as I've not seen any around this holler. I fear’ that the story must remain untold."
Half a dozen drinks were quickly pressed upon Spencer, and he began the following story: "Gentleman, it is like this: Down in our country there is three things that a man is proud of, his family, his stummick for squirrel whisky, and his coon dawgs. Well, me and ‘dawg’ thar, in the last few years have become the most famous individuals in southern Missouri and northern Arkansas. Every dance, coon hunt, or feud palled off in that neck of the woods for years has ended up with tales of how me and ‘dawg’ there fit bars, coons, and catamounts. After awhile every one got jealous of us. Yes, sah, my old neighbors would hardly look at me, and when ‘dawg' came around they would jist natcherly quit whittlin’ and go off indoors.
GOT TIRED OF FIGHTIN'.
"Then one day last spring a feller by the name of Lem Andrews, who runs a store down at the county seat, became so jealous of me and 'dawg' that he coaxed ‘dawg' into his store and just about kicked the life out of him. Now 'dawg' is sure funny. He'll fight any varmint from a treefrog to a polar bear, but he just natcherly seems afraid of humans when they begin gettin' rough. Won't fight or anything, just duck his tail between his legs and howl. No, sah, he'll not run away, but just lay there and bawl three times for any kick.
"Well, it was a month before I heard about Lem kicking my dawg around, and then I went down. That fight was a classic, gentlemen, from the time the sun stood straight above the Court House until it was fadin’ behind the trees it took me to convince Lem that he had to ask the dawg's pardon.
But it wasn’t no use. Everybody knows about ‘dawg’s fightn’ after that and the poor fellow was kicked by every dawg owner in Ozark County. I fit every man that I could get to, average five a week, but it wasn't no use. Why, even ‘dawg’ got discouraged and didn't want to hunt coons any more.
SIMPLY HAD TO MOVE.
"I finally writ to the Governor about it: thought maybe he could make ‘em stop kickin’' my dawg around, I was feeling kind of blue and the rhyming part of the letter just came natcheral.
That's all of how the song came to be writ. But after that, it was worse than ever. Everybody got to singin' about me and dawg. Then he got discouraged and so did I. About a month ago I jest natcherly couldn't stand it any longer and hitched up the mules, whistled to the dawg, and struck out for Colorado. Told the wife and kids I'd locate, and then come back for 'em. Now, b'gad, gentlemen, I'm goin’ out and set down on a piece of Uncle Sam's land, and this kickin' about of 'dawg' is going to stop.”
Somebody in the crowd asked Spencer the name of his dog. "Just ‘dawg,’" answered Spencer as he climbed to the seat of his wagon and clucked to his mules. The piebald hound woke up, stretched one left out behind him and ambled off. Spencer arose in his seat and announced to the crowd that as he had left one state because they were kickin' his dawg around that hereafter he expected to have his dawg respected, and, furthermore, he would scalp the first man he caught kickin' him. Spencer yelled to his mules and the wagon rattled out of Walsenburg in the direction of the Spanish Peaks.
End of Article
How Popular was the Song? 
How Old is that Tune?
Name That Tune
There is now a great resource that holds over 1600 Ozark Mountain Folk Songs on the internet. These songs were thankfully recorded by a gentleman named Max Hunter, between 1956 and 1976, from Springfield, Missouri. Max, a traveling salesman, took his reel-to-reel tape recorder into the hills and backwoods of the Ozarks, preserving the heritage of the region by recording the songs and stories of many generations of Ozark History. As important as the songs themselves are, the voices of the Missouri and Arkansas folks who shared their talents and recollections with Hunter are priceless. The web address is: http://maxhunter.missouristate.edu/.
I would like to thank Dr. Michael F. Murray, editor of the Max Hunter Database, of Missouri State University, for his permission to place a link from this blog to this valuable resource. In this database, the Hound Dog song can be found sung by Ollie Gilbert of Mountain View, Arkansas, on March 11, 1970.
You can listen to the song by clicking your mouse HERE.
Hound Dawg Song
VERSE 1
Ever time I go t' town
Th' boys 'er kickin' my dog around
Makes no difference if he is a hound
They got t' quit kickin' my dog around
VERSE 2
My ole Jim dog, th ole cuss
Just come along and follered us
An' as we drove by ole Johnson's store
A bunch of boys came out th door
VERSE 3
Ole Jim, he run behind th box
They pound on him, with a bunch of rocks
"Hey there, that's my dog"
Makes no difference if he is a hound
You gotta quit kickin' my dog around
VERSE 4
They tied a tin can to his tail
An' run him around th country jail
That just made us awful sore
Lem he he cussed an' ole Bill swore
VERSE 5
Me an' Lem an' old Bill Brown
We lost no time gettin' down
Here comes a man, stompin' the ground
I told him to take Jim down
VERSE 6
When ole Jim saw him there
He jumped on him like a bear
He sure did mess up things around
There was rags an' meat an' hair
VERSE 7
Makes no difference if he is a hound
You gotta quit kickin' my dog around
Comments? Email me!
Works Cited:
“Fame of the Ozarks.” Star Publications 12.36 (29 Nov. 1912) 6. Chronicling America. The Library of Congress, Washington, D. C. 11 Jan. 2008 http://www.chroniclingamerica.loc.gov
“German Scrap Book.” Marion Sentinel 33.32 (11 Apr. 1912) 4. Access Newspaper Archive. Baxter County Library, Mountain Home, AR. 1 Dec. 2009. http://www.access.newspaperarchive.com.
Gilbert, Ollie. “Hound Dog Song.” Max Hunter Folk Song Collection Missouri State University. 25 Dec. 2009. http://maxhunter.missouristate.edu.
“Houn’ Dawg Man Turns Up Again.” Indianapolis Star 9.293 (24 March, 1912) 52. Access Newspaper Archive. Baxter County Library, Mountain Home, AR. 1 Dec. 2009. http://www.access.newspaperarchive.com.
“No one Ventures to Kick His Dawg Around.” Anaconda Standard (5 Mar. 1912) 3. Access Newspaper Archive. Baxter County Library, Mountain Home, AR. 1 Dec. 2009. http://www.access.newspaperarchive.com.
“Song’s Ancient Ancestry.” Syracuse Herald, 36, NO. 10,969 (22 Apr.1912) 36. Access Newspaper Archive. Baxter County Library, Mountain Home, AR. 1 Dec. 2009. http://www.access.newspaperarchive.com.
“The Ozark Hound Dog Song." Algona Courier 28.13 (29 March 1912) 1. Access Newspaper Archive. Baxter County Library, Mountain Home, AR. 1 Dec. 2009. http://www.access.newspaperarchive.com.
"Time to Dance." Lowell Sun Monday, (17 Oct. 1921) 18. Access Newspaper Archive. Baxter County Library, Mountain Home, AR. 1 Dec. 2009. http://www.access.newspaperarchive.com.
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