He used to chase a rolling bone;
With it in his jaws, he'd bite,
Yet kept from going too far by a rope.
Then ruefully he barked, eating at his rump--
This was worse than mange,
When hair hangs on a sore-encrusted clump.

As he licks and teethes, nipped Fido's delving for fleadom.
Into his hide the pests bore, making him scratch.
Fido delves for fleadom, got his feet high, with a patch,
Yeah--got a piece of hind in his paw. . .looks like thatch.

Po' Fido's delving for fleadom, whines and screams; he's luncheon;
Mites they bite through his thighs; on his buns they all dine.
Mites, they bite, mites, they bite.
Bite a mite! Make those mites take flight.
Fido's delving for fleadom. Bites crunch 'em, yes they do!

He will lose, because they've made of him a home;
He's now parasite city,
Housing a fam'ly of nasty gastronomes.
Fido's livin' fleasy; the whole family dines
Till they've sipped their fill; this fleadom sapped him. . .
Whines and plaintive cries.

Po' Fido's dinner for fleadom. Biting fleas, they munch him;
Fido's light-headed; can't fight; they swill blood like wine.
Mites, they bite, mites, they bite.
Fido's dry as from vampire bite.
Fido's dessert for fleadom.
He's done for--sad but true.