Tuesday, April 12, 2011

Oh, How I Want To Go Home

Can't you see, I'm a house dog!
 It’s been two weeks since I saw my human. I’ve trimmed down, looking good. I’m right in the road where you left me.

The lady here feeds me a few table scraps. I run from house to house hoping to come in, please let me out of the rain. With a tight squeeze under the door, I can rest in a garage.

Why am I outside the yard?

I don’t bother with the satos; I’ve heard about street dogs. I don’t want to catch anything. Mostly they stay by the house on the hill.

During the day I go walking with a man who digs up roots. He talks to me; sometimes he pets me for a second or two. Oh, how I miss cuddles.

Just after the thunder storm, a car past me; it looked like yours. So excited, I ran as fast as my little legs would go up, up; the car slowed.

To my surprise a handsome black guy only a couple of inches bigger than me came out. We sniffed; he looked scared. I told him not to worry, my human would come back to get us. Until then, the kind folks share what they can. Be brave like me.

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