Friday, January 25, 2013

A Dog's Broken Heart by Chi-Ping

Blondie trusts that woman; not me, I know better. You try really hard to please them. You never know what they’re yelling about, and then one day you go for a car ride never to return. I don’t care how nice they seem; they’re all no good. We animalitos should just take what we can get. Worry about a human is a waste of time.
Look how long I worried and prayed for the one who dropped me off on the hill. My heart ached. I thought she cried for me. She threw me out. I didn’t know, I thought the SUV made her do it. She threw me out; didn’t want me.
She picked me up. She hugged me so tight I thought I’d never get my breath. She would shake me before dropping me like a rock. When she did this, she squealed. The rest of time I was tied up right there with my waste. But I loved her. She was my life and she threw me out.  
I wag my tail for any human. It’s better when they are nice. When a hand comes my way to hurt me, I bite hard. I no longer have to put up with shaking and being squeezed ‘til I pop.
Word on the street is to never get into a car. You don’t come back. So this has happened to more than me. One day you’re an unsuspecting pet, and the next you’re standing on the side of the road wondering what happened. What kind of a creature does this?
Blondie went for a ride. I held my breath the whole time she was gone. Blondie and Stormy were my first street dog friends. Stormy died before Christmas in 2011. He was hit by a truck. Blondie went to New Orleans with me. She’s my best friend. I’ll hate that woman if anything happens to Blondie.
The car finally pulled into the driveway. Blondie barked. I barked. Blondie couldn’t wait to tell me about the super market, all the good stuff in the trunk of the car, and how she barked at all the satos she passed on the street. She said, “Look at me. Look at me. I’m in a car.”
I took the treat she offered, as she put the things away. Later, I fell asleep at the foot of her bed. She stroked my head and kissed me good night.

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