I sit here in the dog pound
As people pass me by.
Does no-one want a Greyhound
Who's timid, sweet and shy?
I've tried my best to find a home,
And I smile when they come near,
It doesn't seem to work though,
They hurry by with fear.
Then suddenly, a little girl
Came and stroked my head,
And looking at her mother
With pleading eyes she said.
"I want that dog, he smiled at me,
You said that I could choose".
A Greyhound with a smiling face?
Well, how could I refuse?