THE DREAM

I lay down bleeding, bruised, and sore,
Broken spirit, just like before.
Can't he see my pain, my fright?
I want to play, and love - not fight.
I see his hand as it comes down,
And as he speaks I can hear his frown.
I shrink down closer to the floor,
But I know just what's in store.
I whimper softly, though in vain.
My punishment - a four-foot chain.
Left outside for seven days.
No food, no water, eyes that glaze.
I rest my eyes, close them tight,
Trying to forget my plight.
As I open them again,
There is no grass, there is no chain.
I see your hand as it comes down,
To pat my head, call me a clown.
You laugh and tell me how I snore,
Then you hug me, and pat me more.
"It was only a dream!" I think with a sigh,
And thank the big man up in the sky.
The pain I endured, it led you to me,
And FINALLY, "I" am a part of a "WE".
My heart beats "I love you."  I hope you can hear it.
There's not many out there that can mend a broken
spirit.

Eternal Sleep

-by Terri L. Onorato

It wasn't all that long ago
I ran the dusty track for show,
devoted and driven my face pierced the wind
as race after race I fought to contend.
Slow at the turn and lacking in grace
I did what I could but I never placed.
I loved to run hard and hear the crowd roar
yet those cheers turned to boos when I didn't score.
Folks lost their money when they bet on me
they tagged me a loser, said "Retire number three!".
I had no idea what I was likely to find
as I walked from the track for the very last time.
My person was waiting, eyes teared and face so long
I sensed inside the sadness that this time I'd not go home.
I tried to change my person's mind and wagged my mighty tail
but I knew deep down without a doubt, like racing I had failed.
We drove along the country roads till we came upon a town
where erected off the main drag was a place known as the pound.
A pretty woman came outside and took me from my crate
my person signed the papers and with one look at my face
said "I'm sorry that I have to go and leave you here to sleep.
I felt my heart break into bits and walked with head bent low
I knew that it was over and I had no place to go.
Inside the dingy building I was checked and tagged and weighed,
a voice said, "We will put him down, tomorrow if not today."
I heard the pretty woman state, "Don't look him in the eye,
he has that Greyhound gaze that says, "I do not want to die."
They put me in a kennel with the others on death row,
I lay down on the concrete and moaned so soft and low.
Morning filtered through the glass, I stretched my weary bones
the pretty woman came to me and said, "It's time to go."
The hall was long and stark and cold, I did not cry or weep
I used my eyes and face and soul to halt eternal sleep.
She tried her best to use defense and look away from me,
she seemed to know how wrong it was to do this deadly deed.
She bent down close and held my face against her silken cheek,
the needle entered my front leg and quickly  I felt weak.
I heard the pretty woman sob as she lay me on the floor,
I saw a last glimpse of her face and then I saw no more.
I may not have been the fastest dog to ever run the track,
I just wish someone had loved me so I could have loved them back.



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