Me
To
Say,
In
A
Canine
Way,
That
People
Get
Crazier
Every
Day.
My
Master
For
One,
Carries
A
Gun
And
Is
So
Full
Of
Fear,
He
Exists
On
Light
Beer.
Villains
Approach
In
A
Horrible
Mob,
Coming,
He
Thinks,
To
Steal
His
Job,
So
The
Poor
Slob
Drinks.
Myself,
I leave
It
All
Alone,
Content
With
An
Occasional
Bone,
And
I’m
Not
Alone.
Other
Breeds
Serve
Human
Needs,
Teaching
Them
Love
And
Joy,
Yet
All
They
Want
Is
To
Forget,
And
Throw
The
Latest
Squeaky
Toy.