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Black dog

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Black dog

By the door, it sat, this big black dog,
it then walked away when I approached,
not running, just walking fast,
as if it did not know to run or trust,
it simply declined my presence.

I saw it the next morning in the grey dawn,
shivering it watched me again as I walked by,
ready to dart away,
yet wanting to come,
it must remember the caress of its master,
who abandoned him.

Then a week went by,
a man came and said that a dog,
skinny, black, and weak was by our lake,
he went for food or so he said at a nearby Publix store;
again he would not approach the man.

I saw the dry dog food by the door the next morning,
some used, hopefully for the dog,
not sure where he is now,
so sad, to be let go of in the wild,
to lose trust and seeking safety in isolation.

I wonder when we will learn to see
that those we care for are our responsibility,
to not treat them with sadistic unconcern,
but to treasure their gift to us,
their love and trust often disregarded.--Br.MD

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