Without you I wait,
head bowed, silently praying for your safe return.
Time passes languidly, but I remain,
embedded in the pavement, knowing you'll come back for me.
Your baby, as I once was, your schnuckums, your love.
I wait,
my tail wags in remembering how to held me.
How you scratched behind my ears, right where it itched making me
flail with appreciation.
 I whine, low and with despair as the hunger
takes hold. The shivers shake my fur and I lift my head to passerby's,
hoping they'll remind you I'm still here for you.
They walk on.
Some frown, some don't, some ignore me and others kick me, screaming
something about me "getting out of here" so I run,
 I will return.
I will be there when you get back, but for now I must find food.
In the trash I find a bit of cheese on a pizza box and I devour the
tasty cardboard but the hunger still squeezes me tight.
I run for a while.
Far away, just to run, just to breathe. There I find another like me, and
another, I am joyed, friends?
I hope, but they do not wag at my approach
and soon I'm fighting for my life, biting legs and feeling teeth tear into
mine.
Yelping I manage to escape, and limping back to where you left me
I lay, defeated and dejected back where I think you'll find me, because I
know you meant to bring me back home, back to my bed in the corner, back
to my chew toys and crate.
The place where my collar use to be feels cold
and I know when you return you'll put it back on, in it's rightful place
and we'll be a family again.
I'll be whole again with you by my side leash
in hand so here I wait, my legs hurt, my stomach hurts, my heart hurts;
but there is hope, there's always hope that you'll be here
 when I wake.