My family brought me home cradled in their arms.

They cuddled me and smiled at me and said I was full of charm.

They played with me and laughed with me and showered me with toys.

I sure do love my family, especially the girls and boys.

The children loved to feed me, they gave me special treats.

They even let me sleep with them - all snuggled in the sheets.

I used to go for walks, often several times a day.

They even fought to hold the leash, I'm very proud to say.

These are the things I'll not forget - cherished memory,

because I now live in the shelter - without my family.

They used to laugh and praise me when I played with that old shoe.

But I didn't know the difference between the old ones and the new.

The kids and I would grab a rag, for hours we would tug.

So I thought I did the right thing when I chewed the bedroom rug.

They said that I was out of control, and would have to live outside.

This I did not understand, although I tried and tried.

The walks stopped, one by one; they said they hadn't time.

I wish that I could change things, I wish I knew my crime.

My life became so lonely, in the back yard, on a chain.

I barked and barked, all day long, just to keep from going insane.

So they brought me to the shelter, but were embarrassed to say why.

They said I caused an allergy, then they each kissed me goodbye.

If I'd only had some classes, when I was just a little pup,

then I would have been a better dog when I was all grown up.

"You only have one day left." I heard the worker say.

Does that mean I have a second chance?



By Sandi Thompson

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