With coat like a warrior, bristling and bold,
The Airedale stands tall, a story untold.
A terrier’s spirit, in frame most grand,
He strides through the fields, king of the land.
His eyes, dark and sharp, miss nothing around,
His ears perk and twitch, to every sound.
A hunter’s instinct, ever awake,
No challenge too daunting, no puzzle to break.
His laugh, a joyous bark, rings on the breeze,
Tail wags a rhythm, his heart at ease.
Loyal and brave, a protector so true,
His love boundless, fierce, and ever new.
Through rivers he plunges, through woods he will dash,
With boundless energy, a whirlwind’s flash.
No couch potato, this king of the game,
He begs for adventure, to fan his fiery flame.
But cuddles abound, when the day’s work is done,
A gentle giant, seeking love’s warm sun.
He rests by your side, a contented sigh,
His spirit may wander, but his heart will not lie.
So raise a glass high, to this terrier so grand,
The Airedale, the king, with heart in his hand.
May his laughter forever fill home and field,
A loyal companion, a joy to be revealed.