The Red Door
No one wanted Buddy, and his time was almost up.
I wish I could tell them, the people outside the dog cage. I daren’t call it my cage. I don’t want to belong to it. It’s a cage, cement blocks for walls, bare cement with a drain hole in the floor and rusted metal bars with a latch I can’t open. I’ve tried.
I want to tell them the floor is too cold. It pains my paws when the winter chill comes up from outside and…