DO I GO HOME TODAY?
By Sandi Thompson
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, they 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 things I'll never forget - a cherished memory.
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 thought 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 backyard, on a chain.
I barked and barked all day long to keep from going insane.
So they brought me to the shelter but were embarrassed to say why.
They said I caused an allergy, and then kissed me goodbye.
If I'd only had some classes as a little pup,
I wouldn't have been so hard to handle when I was all grown up.
"You only have one day left," I heard the worker say.
Does this mean a second chance? Do I go home today?
