Today is just another day - to me they're all the same
I have the worst of genes you see, I bear the "Staffy"
shame.
The shame is in our numbers, there's thousands with no
home.
Thousands just like me you'll find, in kennels all
alone.
My mum was "just a Staffy", my father - well
who knows?
Mum, too, became unwanted, as the last puppy goes.
And then begins the process, of money-making deals
A life of "moving on" unfolds, who cares how
the Staffy feels?
If you have the cash to hand, the Staffy pup is yours
You brought me for your image, thought I'd make you
look more tough
But you'll find my boisterous nature has already got
too much.
If you had thought to train me, with kindness and with
praise
You would have had a faithful friend to share your
darkest days.
I would lay down my life for you, but you simply
cannot see
You make sure you get your money back on what you paid
for me.
And on it goes, until one day, I'm no longer worth a
dime
The retail on an adult staff - not worth the waste of
time.
So what happens to a Staffy now? Do you really want to
know?
Do you care what will become of us, when we leave our
final home?
Have you ever thought to wonder, "Where is that
Staffy now?"
The "Staffy" has another name; he's become a
"stray" somehow.
Me, I was put into a car and driven far away
The door held open, I jumped out, I thought to run and
play.
It was with joy and happy heart I turned to look for
you
You drove away with all my trust and a piece of my
heart too.
I wondered round for many days before I was brought
here.
Now I wait with heavy heart, trepidation and with
fear.
Seven days is all I have you see, seven days for you
to claim
The little dog that you threw out, for which you have
no shame.
This is my last goodbye now my seven days are up
If only more thought had gone into the future of that
pup
As the needle empties to my veins I lay down with one
last sigh
I'm sorry I was born a Staffy, because it means that I
must die.
(Trudie
James)
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