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Oh, I used to have a doggie and I called him little Gomez 
Because he was a Mexican Chihuahua 
Though there wasn’t much to him what there was all cojones 
In fact he was a randy little fella big dogs, small dogs were all the same to him 
The canine equivalent of Errol Flynn 
At the drop of a sombrero he’d jump up and get stuck in 
Taking Gomez out for walkies was embarassin’ 

I remember one day in the park his tally rose by four  
An enviable score he was amassing, two very patient poodles and an Irish Labrador 
And a wombat who just happened to be passing 
I tried every way to curb his carnal appetite 
I kept him on a leash by day, I locked him up at night 
I even put some bromide in his chunky meaty bites 
But the only thing that might have worked was Kryptonite 

Then came the fateful day when he tried to consummate 
A liaison with a Saint Bernard from Dublin 
And although he was quite clearly fighting well above his weight 
He didn’t let that minor detail stop him 
He nearly pulled it off, oh, what an acrobat! 
But the bitch got bored and down she sat 
Well, they say that after making love you sometimes feel quite flat 
I’m sure that little Gomez would agree with that 

I buried Gomez in the park, his happy hunting ground a sad but fitting finale 
Though I had to make a grave that was very flat and round 
‘Cause he looked like squashed tamale 
But oh, how I missed my wee Chihuahua chum 
I went down to the pet shop to find another one 
I went there feeling happy, but I left there feeling glum 
Because the man behind the counter loved corny puns 

And he said “Yes, we have no Chihuahuas we have no Chihuahuas today 
We have Alstations, Dalmatians, fruits of all flirtations, 
An alpine Pekinese in a toupee 
But yes, we have no Chihuahuas we have no Chihuahuas today”

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