Training the family pit bull.

Poor Rocky. Poor Scruff.
Mutts on the pedestals, gather round:
Notice I wear this coat of nylon.
This is my day suit,
And you wear yours. Content and submissive.
From one hound to another, my advice?
Recognise prey. Don't play with your food.

Yes, this job, it's tough. I am covered
In lacerations, my labours of love.
Picking at the stitches, the progress,
As if I am digging for bones!
The highlight, I'd have to say,
Is watching you do this to me.
You wild animals,
You must learn. You crave flesh.

Provoking is most effective.
I take more pride in seeing
The bloodthirst in the black eyes
Of a family dog than seeing
My son's first steps. More comfort than
Feeling the embrace of my wife.
You understand your roots, don't you,
Spike? You are an animal,
Like me! Like me.

Mother nature sharpens those teeth,
Not I. Let the vets remember that,
Let the police know that I did not
Make you a killer. I simply
Unearthed the ground of your
Nature. This is you,
You are un-domesticated.
As God intended.

Perhaps a toast to the offending.
A knuckle-dust of treats. You sly fella,
You tricky bugger. Chasing the crows
Will be childsplay.
Might it seem so bold,
If I were to step on your tail once more?
Risky, risky.

Here, you see, that lone baby over there?
Fetch. Sick 'em.

Oh, my.
Ain't life a bitch?