I have the worst of genes you see - I bear the "Staffie" 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 Staffie", my father - well who knows?
Mum, too, becomes unwanted, as the last of her puppies goes.
And then begins the process, of money-making deals,
A life of "moving on" unfolds - who cares how a Staffie feels?
If you have the cash to hand, that Staffie pup is yours,
But that pup is getting bigger now - just look at those big paws!
You bought me for your image, thought I'd make you look real tough.
Soon you 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.
Though I'd lay down my life for you, you simply cannot see.
Just 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 Staffie 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 Staffie now?"
The "Staffie" has another name; he's become a "stray" somehow.
I was put into a car and driven far away,
The door held open, I jumped right out - I thought to run and play.
With joy and happiness in my 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, all alone and full of 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 into my veins
I lay down with one last sigh,
I'm sorry I was born a Staffie, because it means that I must die.