My name is Doherty Mangy Kerr

My pack hunts the moors

Many stags, we all run down

Without a single swallow of Coors

My daddy was an alpha of wolves

Mama was a Scottish terrier

Everybody hated me for that

The terrier made not me scarier


Many hunts we went out on

Each one, we caught less and less

And every time we raided a coos' field

Their herders sued us for the mess

Wasn't long after that before

The hunts became a chore

Never any victories, I scored

I started wanting more


An omega, I began out as

Seemed right by the rest of the pack

But of course, there are certain terrier traits

That naturally cause you to lack

I didn't have to become an alpha

Would've settled for a beta

But maybe I'd like my chances more

If I were a Ford, or even a Tata


In my own voids, alphas grew

My father remained strong

He did what he could to protect me

But the others thought him wrong

And then, one night, it was bound to happen

We gathered for a dispute

My father lost, and with it, his life

They just threw me in the chute


Fare thee well, fair Scotland

Fare thee well, ye seasons turn

With luck, my neck will be jingling

On the day of my return...

WILL I return?