I'm a Stafford and that's fine with me.
There's nothing else I would rather be.
But, it is not at all a joy.
If you treat me like a cuddly toy.
I like to go out with my master.
But without control, it'll be a disaster.
To chase a ball that's th best of the day.
Because the ball is in fact my prey.
If someone suddenly runs away.
I'll go after him, than he's my prey.
People say that's an assault.
But it really is my masters fault.
I get lots of love and attention.
But leadership, they always mention.
And I need a lot of that.
But again and again, they alway forget.
Without leadership I do my own thing.
And people think that's frightening.
So, be my master, that's good for me.
Only then I'm the Stafford I should be.
Towards man I'm full off charm.
To other dogs I can do harm.
But only one can be the leading voice.
My master would be the perfect choice.
More and more people want to own me.
So I'm almost an endangered doggy.
I ask my master: please understand.
You really must give me your leading hand.
I'm a Stafford who honestly fights.
For his basic, doggish rights.
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