I am Me and that’s all I know, for as to a name, I have none. I see myself peering back from the water I find to drink and know that it’s Me I see . A hungry, filthy, mangy dog is how most would see Me if they saw Me…if only they’d see. Me, I have a heart, feelings, and needs like them but that they do not see. They don’t see Me. Yet I know I exist, but they don’t seem to care or see that I do.

How can they all be deaf to my cries, too? Cries of pain, hunger, and sadness are constant from Me. How can they not hear or do they just not care? But maybe it’s just because my cries are so weak where I haven’t got much strength. But the cries of hunger from my belly are loud, why can’t they hear those?

It can’t be my size as I’m not very big, so it’s not that they’re afraid of someone like Me. Besides, I could never hurt them as they’re hurting Me. The size of my heart scaring them, that I could understand, for it must be huge I have so much love to give. So I guess it’s just they don’t see Me.

I am disfigured by my scars because of my past and I know I’m ugly with my ribs sticking out , so maybe that’s why they don’t see Me. Why can’t they see my tail wagging or the appeal in my eyes? Can’t they see that I’m starving… for both food and love? But they don’t want Me…not in their lives, homes or even their garbage. So where does that leave Me? Why, oh, why, can’t they see Me? Maybe it’s my shivers that turn them away from Me. Don’t they know, it’s just that I’m freezing where it’s so very cold. Maybe they think I’m vicious because of the blood around my neck. If only they’d look at Me, they’d see the collar growing into my skin. But they don’t see Me.

Me? I keep hoping and wandering, in anticipation of them seeing Me, which is why my paws bleed. Through country, city and town I roam, but still invisible to all but Me. I know not where I’m going but know what I seek, Somewhere, there’s a place for Me. And so onto another road, so bone tired and weary, I go.