I'm beagle or mongrel 

A dog in the street 

The one the van tempts 

With its offer of meat 

I'm taken away in a small, unmarked van 

To be tortured and maimed 

In the Interests of man 

They handle me roughly 

And stun me with darts 

No time for compassion 

Or warmth in their hearts 

The pup on the table 

Has wires in her head 

Her eyes plead injustice 

She'd rather be dead 

Our cries pass unheard 

Our distress is unseen 

In the cruelty inflicted 

By man and machine 

They force my dependence 

On newly found drugs

Then cut down the dosage 

And pull out the plugs 

In pain left to suffer 

Alone left to die 

If I'm man's best friend 

I deserve to know why ...