With an open mouth,
Lined with sharp teeth,
He rips into the skin
Of an exposed neck
And pulls with an instinct.
With a spark in his eye,
He growls from his maw,
Plants his paws in the mud
And holds his black tail high above his head.
With a quick shake of his fur,
Resetting the raised follicles,
He wags his proud tail
And begins the game of chase.
