How Can This Be Right?


Maybe it’s ‘cause I’m not pretty.

Maybe it’s ‘cause I’m not always calm.

But whatever it was, how did I deserve what they did to me?


I wasn’t born in this city.

I didn’t want to be ripped from my mom.

But I was, and now I’m alone, no one to help me as I bleed.


I’m only a year old.

The pads on my paws aren’t even fully calloused.

But they are fully covered in red.


I remember the day I was sold.

Their eyes were so full of malice.

Though at the time it was an emotion I misread.


I thought that the man would be nice.

I thought he would love me.

All he did was put me in a cage.


For weeks I sat, no chance to exercise.

I still wanted love, a love that would set me free.

But all I got were cage companions filled with rage.



Time and again they made me fight.

I knew enough not to lose.

I saw what happened to those who failed the boss.


Every time I felt every bite.

Then I was thrown in my cage to lick my bruises.

One day I finally suffered my first loss.


It wasn’t the other dog who killed me.

No, he just knocked me over.

My boss took me in his arms.


My tail had never wagged so happily.

He set me down outside on some soft clover.

Suddenly I was on my side and frozen in alarm.


Two more barks rang out.

He was gone.

Now I’m alone and the pain is horrible.


As I lay here, my thoughts fill with doubt.

I must have done something very wrong. 

Something about me must have made me undesirable.



All I see is light.

All I hear is white.

How can this be right?




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