Let me introduce myself.

I’m sorry I don’t have a name. The family at the house where I arrived a few weeks ago never called me by a name. I don’t know why.

Maybe it was because I was an accident. An unexpected, unwanted arrival. A body that came to a home. Perhaps a home without a heart. Orat least a small one.

I had brothers and sisters. I can’t count so I don’t know how many. All I know is they didn’t have names either.

Mostly when someone looked at us they just spoke in gruff voices with #@&-#!## sounds as they booted us with their feet. I don’t know which hurts more, a man’s big blunt boot or the sharp pointed shoe a woman wears. I still have bruises.

I always thought, hoped things would change, that my new home owners would think I was cute. Or sweet. At least helpless. I was wrong, of course.

Last week, I can’t remember the day, they gathered us up in a box and took us to a town. Your town. It seemed like a nice town. With happy faced children. And not too many cars. Thank goodness for that.

They stopped the car just a few feet from a busy highway.They opened the door, dumped us out of the box. And drove away.

I don’t know what happened to my brothers or sisters. It was almost dark and they didn’t even leave us the box to crawl into. We all just crawled away to find a place to hide. And rest. And wait until they would come back for us.

It didn’t happen.

I crawled alongside a warm cement curb. Warm from the day’s sun. Warm as when I lay next to my mama. I slept. The morning traffic woke me up. I was scared. And sleepy. And hungry. I miss mymama, my brothers and sisters. I looked for them. What was that lump on the highway? I didn’t go look. I wanted my mama but they didn’t bring her with us.

I just wished someone would find me. Take me home. Even it if was to a different home without my mama. I just wanted someone to love me and cuddle me. Someone not like them. Them with their heavy boots and pointed shoes.

Epilogue:

What is the end for this story? We’ll never really know. You have to write your own ending. It will probably be a few heartbreaking sentences. But we’ll never really know.

We can only ask, “Why?” Why can some people be so heartless? If they don’t want kittens (puppies) why don’t they neuter or spay their pets? And why do they dump helpless babies out to suffer, to starve, to be smashed by passing cars?

We all know the answers. Convenience? Frustration? Or is it more? Does it have something to do with lack of heart?

-Dodie Evans

News, Pages 4 on 06/30/2010