His dopey face spread out in a grin,
A slobbering tongue rolls out to the side,
I watch as he basks in the sunlight,
His wagging tanned tail whipping in crazed paths.
How could they mask him as some kind of villain?
A bad guy who goes attacking innocent people.
He wouldn't hurt a fly,
Let alone have the energy to summon up a snarl.
He'd rather run around a field all day,
Or play with his toys,
His favourite being the blue squeaky bone.
He was no monster.
There are stupid people out there,
They'll train 'em up to be creatures of war.
Set them up for underground fights,
And for what? Money.
It was shameful that such a glorious dog,
Is being marked down as a terror.
His kind marked for execution.
We never did this to all Christians,
After Hitler, a devote Christian, slaughtered Jews.
So why do it to a defenceless animal that has no voice?
I could never have had Max back home,
They'd have destroyed his life, killed it or taken his soul.
If I could have kept him there,
It would be a mask in public in case he bit,
A leash everytime he wanted out for a pee,
What life is that? He'd be trapped.
Where was the careless that was allowed to all dogs?
But here he is safe being the lazy-ass dog he's always been.
I squeaked the blue bone in my hand.
His ears pricked up at the sound,
Before he bounded over with his dopey grin.