I am what I am.

My teeth sharp for the chewing of meat.

My tongue long to lessen the summer heat.

My fur sheds on your carpet and couch

And my nails scratch up your kitchen floor.

I sit by your dinner table, my eyes cute,

My stomach big and plead and beg.

I am what I am,

And my four legs need long, long walks

(without leashes, and lots of ladies)

And my tail needs open spaces

(on a daily basis)

And please, no dry kibble

I like my food raw and bloody

Like those birds and squirrels I chase,

But never catch (on purpose)

I am what I am

No questions need be asked.

Oh, and can you give that bone to me?

I can’t say no to a feast.