Down at the pound's where I found him, el perro.
Like a mutt dervish this mendicant whirled.
"Bite" time then; I had to pay the mordida;
There'll be mal moods: I'm in a feline world.

Blackened with spite were the eyes of my felines
When they did see what I'd brought home from hell.
Their hate was deep for this mixed-mongrel canine;
What they would do I wished I could foretell.

That night a row made an awful din--
Worse than mere caterwaulin'
Noise they were blaring,
And fangs they were baring--
All those wicked felines
Were showing "tough love."

So in anger I

Chastised the cats, and out back I did chain them,
Then scolded them: "You must do this no more!"
The chastisement and chains unable to defeat
Los gatos, who were infernally sore.

I'd find that cats are capable of violence
Beyond chasing grounded fowl on the run.
Nasty thoughts ran through their minds as they stewed there.
When I learned my cats use gats, oh so stunned.

Anger made them as strong as Superman;
They broke the chains and did stride
To where I keep guns,
Broke in. . .got a good one,
Hammer pulled back; they carried it inside.

On my lap did lie

My newfound from-the-pound sleeping-sound perro.
In came the mad cats, so vexed they could blow.

Sacked-out el perro's life soon would be worthless;
The little mongrel would draw it's last breath.
Before long, cats had a bead on the canine--
It was wrong to shoot the poor pooch to death.

They could reload as fast as Oswald, so
I saw the two flashing sparks.
It gave me sorrow; two bullets pounded in--
They put one in the brain, one in the heart.

Then later, here I'm

En cerro where's enterrado el perro;
Pongo un' flor where he's duro below.
Reprisal's a strong urge, pushing me onward;
Down the hill to kill those felines I go.

There'll be a fight that will rival the cowboys'
Beef at OK Corral to settle score.
Shouting and shooting, I will set those cats free
To meet with Cerberus down at hell's door.

I was bipartisan, pero now I feel
That the time has come to take sides.
So hot I'm frying,
So mad I am addled;
I hope they hear me
As my oaths are cried.

'cause my hate for

Those felines is strong--not long before they're fallen:
As this thought cheers me, a slug rips my chest.
I see the puff of white smoke from the rifle.
That they'd shoot so well, I'd never have guessed.

Shot down; it's no fair. Those felines astound me,
Hissing like fiends, then they lick their backside.
If I survive, I think next I will try for
A tank of fish. If I'm famished, they're fried.