“She’s nice so someone will want her”
A black stray, mangled with grey
sluff under a thin, black coat, rib
bones so pronounced under torso
one can imagine her already under
grounds she barely stands on. Hind leg
contorted, dragged two miles to follow me
home after I’d held her a plastic water cup.
People don’t always want what’s nice.
They want four legs, Labs or Retrievers.
Or they fall on hard times and are harder
on those below them. The dog’s second
full dish of food’s gone. Her tail’s aflame,
screen whacking in wait while our first
rescue pup spoons with me on the sofa,
certain of two meals a day, treats to sit. Stay.
Okay! chirped and he bounds the front yard
while the back’s closed with this homeless girl.
When I said we’d take her, soon, to animal control
I was startled by my son’s words, the same I wanted
to believe. But there’s not as much niceness
going around. We’re starved for it, the full
feeling so grand, you want to feed it
from your hand, bathe its soiled, sore paw,
scratch its kind head as she bows.
*To donate to “Cardi’s” amputation surgery costs, http://athenscaninerescue.com/donations/