When I read this one, every cliche involving hearts, heartbreak, tears, and sadness filled my brain. My heart broke, it dropped in my chest and ached, I was flooded with sadness then burst into tears. See what I mean? All the cliches. All of them. Mistreated dogs, possibly more than any other sad thing in the world, do this to me. Humans? Forget it. Dogs on the other hand. That's my main sadness trigger. Dogs all start out so good then people ruin them. I really believe that dogs, more than anything else, want to make their peoples happy. And we do things to them to make that impossible. I just can't think about them suffering with no voice and what a person must be composed of to create their suffering. It hurts. This hurts me.
The Puppy
Wesley McNair
From down the road, starting up
and stopping once more, the sound
of a puppy on a chain who has not yet
discovered he will spend his life there.
Foolish dog, to forget where he is
and wander until he feels the collar
close fast around his throat, then cry
all over again about the little space
in which he finds himself. Soon,
when there is no grass left in it
and he understands it is all he has,
he will snarl and bark whenever
he senses a threat to it.
Who would believe this small
sorrow could lead to such fury
no one would ever come near him?
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