First Taste of Responsibility

December 8, 2008
“You have to do everything.”
“Feed, walk, and take care of her.”
I hear my mother’s voice
but I hear you more.

You’re whining in the back of your cage
waiting, waiting for me.
I want more than anything to get you.
To finally play with you.

But it’s my turn to wait.
My mom isn’t done explaining the rules.
I would have taken a hundred rules
because you were mine.

Soon, we were both free.
You, to run and be wild,
me, to watch in childish excitement.
But you didn’t.

Instead, you crawled in my lap.
I sat there amazed
at the bond we had formed
in such a short amount of time.

You were my first puppy.
One I was in charge of.
I had responsibility
and I knew I wanted more.

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