Summer time was hot, hotter than usual in the town Kacowal. The air seemed gone yet heavy, as no wind permitted the stopping of heat.
The humidity made it seem like 80 was closer to 90.
Lakes glistening, few feathers to be seen. The sand shining. The outside world had beauty. It seemed life its self woke up on the right side of the bed today.
Leash chains for dogs and cats shook, although- no cats played outside today in this area. The town loved their dogs.
The dog park in this town was perfect.
Beaches and grass. A few trees, a few crows. Dogs barking at those on wood.
Strangers on benches, birds on branches. So much sound to be captured with light.
The lake was quiet today; no dogs budging their collars against necks to vist and smell.
A crow sits there. Drinking and cooling their body down; so peacefully. Small movements to show self care in such small creatures. Scratching under their wing, as if they weren't pulling feathers but stratching their armpit.
An arm yanks, feeling sore. Paws rumble and tumble away from hands and thumbs.
Water splashes in attempts. Questions get raised and someones shouts, "Bad dog!". The crow is now in the sky, escaping.
A good spurt of energy away, the owner runs to the dog. Her paws soaking as they, the dog, turned back to land in agreement.
Once again, the peaceful park was peaceful. Chains clatter against self and dog. Crows caw from an unlocatable distance. The sun was just setting over the mountain tops. The park was peaceful.
As people ruslted their dogs into cars and others pointed, the park became knowly desolate at night. There was a sign off to leave the park before true closing.
Yet, the parks desolted nature at night seemed to no longer fit patterns. One dog was simply left behind.
Leash tied, food left; the amount could feed a baby kitten. Water was also left. Its like they hoped the Dog Park would become an Adoption Park.
The puppy left was merely worried.
The food seems false and untouchable.
Scents grew distance as visuals got darker and darker. The setting sun left an imprinted vibe of doom.
Letting go of the owners scent the dog starts to look around themself. Noticing that the leash is tied to a bench. The wind wasnt kind but the idea of not being under the bench put a chill on it all.
The collar buckeled skin against itself and edged into tops and bottoms. Still, the dog just wanted to wait.
As the collar pulled more and more, the rage of discomfort collected in the mist of the true fear.
Slowly building was the resistance to change- or the need to just Be. Growling awoke as the dog found that under the bench wasnt well suited.
Getting out from the bench made something snap in the dog.
She yanked and tugged on her collar. Cutting the fabric into their neck.
Begging and pleading for room to be.
Begging for a type of change.
Yanking and tugging, the dog felt the release of tension around metal. Not remembering much, they bolt in the direction their feet landed.
They just wanted to be free. Free at last.
The fear of being left made going home seem wrong. The sense of abandoment settled in the dog as their paws pounded farther into directionless. They didn't know where to go.
