— being a mutt ( for bones )
they found you on the street in the rain in your little cardboard box, tail between your legs and stomach growling. just a street dog, a mutt. you shake in the shadows but they approach and let you sniff their hand. and when you approach them, they carefully scoop you up and clutch you to their chest. it’s warmer than the night air and they smell good. like a fireplace and tea. they brought you home. first, they gave you a bath. filled with bubbles and soaps for sensitive skin, they massaged the suds into you and rinsed your fur till it was soft to the touch and sufficiently brushed out. their hands were careful with the knots, not wanting to tug on your fur and scare you. “ alright, let’s get you dry. “ and they wrapped you up in a big ol’ towel and took you to the living room. while you dried they turned on the tv, something on animal planet and got you some food. you stared at the tv and watched some show about lions play on a low volume. they came back with a bowl filled with chicken and rice. “ here you go, puppy. eat up. “ and they set the bowl down in front of you and watches as you scarf it down. they rub your back and you slump against them as a sleepiness begins to drift over you. you are safe, you are warm, you are fed. “ we’ll get you a collar tomorrow, okay? and a nice big bed. and some toys. “ they kiss the top of your hand and bring you into their lap where you curl up and close your eyes. “ sleep well, puppy. “
