The food here isn't as good as the food back home. It's dry and flaky and I cough and gag. But it's all I have and Mum would have wanted me to eat it. I eat it for her. I get up every day for her. I continue to fight for her.
The humans here take me out of my box sometimes. They hook something around my body and hang onto me from a piece of rope. I'm able to walk around but only as far as the rope allows. Once I tried to bolt but they had an iron grip. What good would running do anyway? I'm not fast enough to get away and I had nowhere to go. I didn't know where Mum was. I'd die out there. And I had to stay alive for her.
The air is warmer now and I enjoy being outside. I sniff the wet grass. I sniff the dry grass and make it wet, kicking up the dirt behind me. The need to make everything mine is gone. The joy of claiming the world vanishes and I just enjoy it for what it is. I'm still so small. What do I need with the whole world?
Warm sunshine melts in my fur. Some birds chirp from bushes and I yip. They fly away, the branches rattling. The human tugs on the rope and we go on.
There are new smells everywhere. I smell squirrels and birds and humans and dogs like me. I even smell stray cats that yawn and stretch and claw the earth. The dirt is covered in their waste and I try digging some up to inspect but the rope tightens. I'm pulled away.
Strange animals that honk and screech run by. I freeze where I stand and watch them. The human watches them too. They stop running and we continue on our walk. I hear ringing and talking and purring and whistling. They catch my attention but I'm escorted away again. I smell fire and smoke and warm food. I sniff the ground but the smell gets fainter with every step. I have to stop and scratch every once in a while. Sometimes I shake. Humans watch me pass them and I wag my tail. They smile and coo and I sniff their feet. Some kneel on the ground and pet me. They speak lovingly and I can't help but sneeze and wag. They must be my friends.
The walk ends and I'm taken back inside the cold yellow den and put back into my box where there's food and fresh water. The humans open the doors to other boxes and all the dogs here get turns to go outside. We're always excited. Some days nobody comes in and we think we've been forgotten only to hear the booming rumble. We hear rain pounding outside. We hang our heads and know there's no walk that day.
Day by day I can feel my box getting smaller. Every day it seems it's harder to move around than it was before. It gets harder to scratch and my paw hits the sides, banging and scaring me. Sometimes I knock my food and water over and I cower. The humans come in and I expect them to be angry. They never are. They just clean me up and talk. I can pick up words here and there but I don't know what all of them mean. They're noisy animals. They have to say so many words to convey what dogs can in just a quick yip.
I lick my paws. There's nothing else to do here. After our walks are over some other humans come in and look us over. Some just visit. Some end up taking one of the dogs with them. Usually the smaller puppies get taken before the bigger dogs. I wonder if I will be taken. Or am I too big?
I can see some of them looking at me through the bars. Some smile. I yip and chew on the bars. My teeth still hurt. I'm growing more. They're very sharp. I hope one day to be able to chew right out of my box and then they'll have to take me back to Mum.
Or they'll scold me with a soft stick. Once in a while they hit our rumps with some long stick they like to look at. It starts out flat then they roll it up and swat at us if we misbehave. It's not hard. But we lower our tails just the same.
A couple of people look at me. I wag my tail and tilt my head. They're funny to look at. They have such flat faces. And so many flat teeth. Hardly any of them are sharp. How can they eat anything? Hardly any fur on them either. Fleas must not be a problem with them. Even so, I don't envy them.
