Oh, I used to have a doggie and I called him little Gomez 'cause he was a Mexican Chihuahua There wasn't much to him but what there was was all cojones He sure was a randy little fella Large 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 embara**in' I remember one day in the park his tally rose by four An enviable score he was ama**ing A pair of high-strung poodles and an Irish Labrador And a [wombat|raccoon] who just happened to be pa**ing 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 salt peter 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 b**h 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 I had to make a grave that was rather 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 Alsations, Dalmatians, the fruits of a flirtation Twixt a half-blind Pekingese and a toupe But yes, we have no Chihuahuas, we have no Chihuahuas today"