I tucked through an alley on a somewhat sunny day in Amsterdam,
Coming across loose dogs in an unsuspecting cobblestone arena,
One was ferociously strong with a black coat and mangey, twisted fur,
The other hound was snowy and clean with quick and silent paws,
Watching as the two go scrap for scrap over fishbones and trash,
Two different methods in this spirited streetfight of claws and teeth,
I cheered the white one as it seemed to be the right thing to do,
Kicking at the black dog that was so vulgar I couldn’t bare its sight,
But the white one protested and he bit at my exposed ankles,
To my surprise, I leaped backwards in hurt betrayal,
But the dogs simply resumed their fight with even more vigour,
And then a large grey dog came to my side and simply sat,
In his mouth was more fish bones that he threw into the fray,
Just looking on, as these enemies showed no mercy,
But the grey dog’s amusement made me ponder this sight,
Perhaps I thought it too simple and they were no enemies at all,
It could be that one is needed for the other to be,
Scrimmaging endlessly in these unseen battlefields,
Away from the busy eyes of human market streets,
A fun little boxing club among mates as they do their dance.