My trainer cuddled into me,
as she poured her heart into my fur.
All her hard work down the drain,
never understanding why no one wanted me.
She explained that I was a good dog,
but my chances were not so good.
Time was ticking by for me
and people were always looking for pups.
She also said my record didn't go down well,
as soon as people read how many homes I'd come back from,
they didn't want to know.
They judged me by numbers;
how many homes and my age,
and then there was the judgement
of how trustworthy I could be.
They think it must be my fault,
but how could it possibly be?
It was humans who chose to have me,
humans who continued to buy me,
and humans who failed to guide me.
And as I start to shiver in the corner of my floor,
I wonder if there is a place for humans,
when they are loved no more.
My thoughts drift off into a dream,
where I can take myself off to a different world
where no one knows my age, or from where I came.
I wonder if I have lived my life,
and that is all that is to be,
I wonder if happiness is not a part
of this deeply saddened world
in which I found myself to be.
