Back alley life, is not what I had pictured, I haven’t had anything to eat for days, me and best friend are lucky if we can manage to find some scraps of food amongst the dust bin’s, and bags that we lay on. I manage to emerge myself from my hard cardboard bed, I then scarper as fast as my legs will take me, to see if I can find anyone that would help a helpless dog in need like me, On the streets of New York. That is a rare thing you will find. But I try. As I walk through the busy streets of New York night life. I come across family’s who are walking their dogs, I feel I can no longer walk, I am too weak. I stop for breathe and I hear dog barks… I put my two cut paws up against a window ledge of the mansion sized house I am stood in front of, and gaze with amazement at what I see, two dogs, with shiny fur, almost looks like the fir coats that the classy ladies of New York walk around in.
With wagging tails and tongues hanging out, how much I wanted to be apart of the family I could see before my eyes.
An hour or so later I found myself still staring through the steamed up window, I just cannot bring myself to get down and walk on, the clean and tidy dogs I am looking at are now laid down asleep on, what look to be – clean and soft beds, what I would do to be in their position right now.
As I climb down from the window and head back to my friend. I think to myself, maybe just maybe one day my life could be as good and caring as theirs.