My name is Blanca, and I live on the
second ground floor, sometimes on linoleum, some times old deck boards, and sometimes in the dirt. I was the seventh of eight puppies, and from the very start, obviously the very smallest. Today El Guapo my brother, and Violet my sister, left in a shiny black car with some Mama hair-colored ladies. It was drizzling, and I watched them be petted, held like babies, and meet a big yellow dog. They had sweet voices and I wanted to be held too. I wined from the other side of the cold wire fence. They left me in the big puppy yard, all alone in the wet grass. My little puppy heart is aching. I just know that like all the others, Violet, and El Guapo, are never coming back
(insert the saddest puppy cries, and watery eyes here).
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Since my litter mates left me,
I found a new place to dwell,
it's down on the end of lonely street, the puppy-heart-ache motel.
I feel so lonely Violet, I feel so lonely El Guapo,
I feel so lonely, I could die... (add more puppy wines here) |
After the litter left me, my people let me out of the gate, I followed them into the house, played with the big dogs rawhide bones, I even retrieved! I then was escorted to the big back yard where the big dogs are. My Mama, and Big Bart. Man is he big, I put my chin to the wood and thought "please don't eat me." He hasn't yet.
I watched them retrieve a ring and a ball, the whole world shook as they charged up and down the deck stairs. I checked out their big dog houses, lied down under the patio table, and eventually right up against Mama. Life is good, and I may have heard that I'm sleeping in the house tonight.
Did I tell you that my sister Violet, and my Brother El Guapo, still have not come back?
