"Left Out in the Cold", Robin Loving [best 7 inch ereader TXT] 📗

"Left Out in the Cold"

Born to the cold
a baby cat cries
to a world that is deaf
and has half-open eyes

his mother is helpless
as frozen, she tries
to suckle her babies
the smallest one dies

two nestle closer
and nudge at her teat
begging for warmth
from a fading heart-beat

he knows they are hungry
so he SCREAMS out in pain
his voice carries nowhere
in the frozen, winter rain

This bold little kitten
will never know why
he was dumped by the river
and left there to die


he'll never hear a human voice
feel the warmth of his own bed
he'll never bat at stuffed little mice
or get scratches on his head

he'll never grow to rule the house
as 'Prince-upon-a-pillow'
he'll never purr himself to sleep
in the warmth of a window sill

he'll never pester the family dog
by hitching a ride on her tail
he'll never leave the frozen bank
of his hungry little hell.

He screams once more, and then he's done
he knows he cries in vain
he nestles into his mother's arms
to die in the frozen rain.




"Bernard the Lab"

Snow white snout betrays no smile
eyes that trust, might take awhile
slow to rise, he wants the treat
he isn't steady on his feet
head down low he makes his way
closer, closer, I smooth the gray
upon his face and he looks up
I picture him as a little pup.
He lets me pet him on the head
then wanders back to his twirled-up bed
curls into a little ball
to close his eyes and forget it all.
The next day I went back again
determined to make this dog my friend
I had stopped to buy a special treat
his eyes lit-up at the sight of meat.
Once again, he was slow to rise
but I saw a little more trust in his eyes
his tail thumped twice, then one big heave
brought him within an inch of me
This time he let me rub his side
I named him Bernard. And then I cried.
By day three, he was more than a friend
I could hardly wait to see him again
The new copper-glint in his cloudy eyes
gave serious doubt to his earthly demise.
When he held me in his steady gaze...
I finally 'got it'; "This dog plays!"
His puppy paws were put back on
as we sprinted to the patchwork lawn
I searched around and found a stick
he brought it back..."This dog knows tricks!".
For almost a month we played this game
his smile returned...he wasn't as lame
his spirit was back...he trusted again
his tail went crazy when he saw 'his friend'.
His winter years weren't spent by a fire
where dignified dogs curl-up and retire.
They weren't spent in a cozy home
lavished with love, and his own special bone
Bernard's winter season was spent behind bars
snatching at moments, and healing up scars.
My month long friendship, with Bernard the Lab
ended one bleak winter day
I snatched our stick from where I'd stashed it
But no Bernard came out to play
No white snout was there to greet me
No more glint, from trusting eyes
No more thumps, of wagging friendship.
They needed space. He was 'euthanized'.


"Ellie the Shepherd"

I used to pat a nose
as I'd walk by each cage
It just seemed like fate
That our brown eyes engage.
Silently waiting
for her turn to play
a perky-eared Shepherd
was brought in that day.

This once I would start
at the end of the line
leash up this girl
for a little play time.
Happy to have me
she led me outside
a graveyard for sticks
and old balls that had died.

She danced in delight
with each toss of a toy
then trotting, quite proudly
with one chewed-up joy
she'd rear-up and drop it
then stare in my eyes
dare me to take it
I did...no surprise.

Her soft graceful beauty
unmatched in mid-flight
pierced through the armor
I'd laced up so tight
the long dog-less months
of my mourning would end
Here was my heart.
My new life.
My best friend.

She was showing off now
attempting to cram
two more balls in her mouth
as she bumbled and ran
she managed to do it
looked to me for applause
laughing instead...
I grabbed her sweet paws...

and we danced, and we ran
and we almost lost the day
but the others were waiting
for their turn to play
so I rallied her up
and took her inside
There were tears in her eyes.
I think we both cried.

Those shiny white teeth
the spit on her nose
the look of pure trust
only a dog-lover knows
I hated to leave her
that night at the Pound
I stopped in mid-stride.
I almost turned around.

I had promised, tomorrow,
we'd go home to play

labeled "Aggressive", she was killed the next day.


(I credit Ellie for saving many innocent animals, after an investigation was launched into the over-use of the word "Aggressive" when determining a dogs true temperament, thus, their fate, as well).


"One Last Happy Dance"

Happy dancers
locked behind bars
of smelly sounds
and human scars.
People who love
are afraid to run
the happy dancers
in the springtime sun

afraid tomorrow
they won't be there
no answers
no comments
just an empty stare
just another dog
just another day
just another number
who won't get to play.

Soft trusting noses
poke through the bars
searching for someone
who sees beyond scars
but death waits for no dog
when life holds no chance
so I come to offer
one last happy dance

we'll laugh through the play yard
we'll laugh and chase balls
I'll kiss the sweet snouts
and when the time calls
they'll leave our world feeling
like somebody cared
one last happy dance
some precious time shared.

I could close my heart
but I won't take the chance
that my sweet little friends
won't get their last dance

I could close my eyes
or I could be the one
to share that last dance
in the springtime sun

*For Alix


"Old Rinny Tin Tin"

Moe jumped in the car
and his dad closed the door
a ride to the park
was all he lived for
he was armed with his ball
but something didn't feel good
in the back was his bed
and the rest of his food.
Moe thought of his buddy
Old Rinny Tin Tin
And his mouth full of ball
made a big yellow grin
he was taking a gift
to his old furry friend
who's 'fetch' days were numbered
but he'd play till the end.
When they drove past the park
Moe looked at his dad
he looked in the back
at his bed and the bag
he still held the ball
for old Rinny Tin Tin
but knew in his heart
he'd never see him again.


Right past the park.
The river. The lake.
Right past the burgers
where sometimes they ate.
Right past the dream
of a perfect, sunny day.
Right to the building
where dogs never play.
He looked at his dad
but his dad looked ahead
then opened the door
grabbed the food and the bed
Moe dropped the wet ball
on the floor of the car
a 'gift' for his dad.
A sad little scar.
He was led just inside
someone else took his leash
his dad wiped his eyes...
signed a paper of 'release'
He watched the tall man
With more than eyes can simply tell
walk out through the door
And he was led to a cell.


Moe's one single thought
as the needle went in, was
he never gave his ball
to old Rinny Tin Tin.


Moe's last foggy thought
as the needle went in, was
he'd never, give his ball to
old Rinny Tin Tin.



(Dedicated to "Tongus", ((an old Black Lab)) who was killed almost immediately upon intake. His 'Dad' had been assured he'd find a good home through the local Humane Society before he dropped him off with his bed, and three weeks worth of food. An adopter was on her way to fill out paperwork when she received word of his death. This "Humane Society" has undergone dramatic changes since - thanks to Tongus.)





"Foggy the Cat"

Needing escape from the mournful howls
the smell of death
the human growls
I grabbed my things, and decided to leave
when a soft little paw, snagged my sleeve

He'd done this before, a few days ago
this speckled gray head
all covered with snow
but today he was thinner, like fog - before noon
he hadn't been eating, his time would come soon

The swelling of tears, quit clouding my eyes
he made me feel hope
in a world I despise
just one of a thousand who dies every year
they wouldn't get Foggy...he wouldn't die here

I made up my mind, to take this small cat
back to a world
that would give his life back
We cuddled as I whispered, a promise in his ear
"You don't need to worry--we're both leaving here"


I promised - "tomorrow, I'll come take you home"
I promised him - "never, will you die alone"
I promised - "tomorrow, our lives will be great"
but sometimes 'tomorrow', is one day too late

Sometimes, "tomorrow", is one day too late.



("Foggy's 'disappearance' triggered an immediate need for 'accountability', and 'transparency' at the local Pound).


"Bennie Got His Bone"

What's it like, to be alone
behind "The Chain", your fate is known

what's it like, to fade away
while the other dogs get to dance and play

what's it feel like to be all alone
just another Pit bull, without a warm home

without a family, a bed or a bone
Bennie has never, had a thing of his own.

What's it like 'now', to be hidden from view
when all the dogs clamor, except for you

they show off their smiles...the lookers walk through
all the dogs smile, except for you

no one can touch you, or take you outside
they've closed "The Curtain"...most bullies they hide

you're a "bad dog", or so they will say
when they come Thursday morning, to take you away

they make weekly rounds, and point to a few
who fit a description...all quite like you

the size of your smile, your powerful chest
are all they consider, not seeing the rest...

your soft sloppy kisses, your ear to ear grin
your warm trusting eyes, letting anyone in...

Tomorrow is Thursday
when afraid and alone
"marked" dogs are escorted
from behind their chained home.

Today it is Wednesday
I've brought Bennie, a bone
and a sorry little promise
to make my heart
his new home.


*Dedicated to Alix (The "Death Row Angel") and Molly.




"A Human Friend"

Now I lay me down