Excited paws pitter-pattered against the glazedwooden floor,
an old mottled pup patiently awaits the oil-laden canof Mighty Dog.
His ears yearn for Mom's call,
hunger eats away athis patience and tolerance.
Slamming car doors sends the dogscampering down the basement stairs.
Eagerly he follows Mom up thestairs,
her halt and retreat sends the dog back down, unwillingly andoff-guard.
The old pup's scream is a high-pitched whistle echoingthough the house.
Thin streak of red blood clenches at the white hairnear his ear.
Ten o'clock calls to all-night animalshelters,
restricted breaths while trembling fingers leaf throughYellow Pages.
Life begins to end on the car ride,
as fast astrees whiz by, the strength of the pup fades.
Chipper eyes glare outof the backseat window,
endless driving, at last, arrives athope.
Farewell bidding;
we remorsefully seep into the flow ofgleaming headlights.
Late night television interrupted by ads forPetland discounts.
Sleep forcefully drowns us with dreams ofblankness and blackness.
Late night calls are never good, nevergood.