Her eyes are what broke me
It wasn’t the scars
I always see past the scars
But her eyes broke my heart
Katie handed me the leash
I could see she was crying
Tears flowing from her brown eyes
Brown eyes like Sandy’s
But Katie’s were different
Katie’s weren’t broken
But Sandy’s were fine
I like broken things.
I hugged Katie tight
“I’ll take care of here”
Katie sobbed a little
“It’s always hard.”
I bet it was.
In the car
Sandy rode in the back
But she cried and barked
Some pain and some fear
I knew she’d ridden in a man’s back seat
I knew why she was afraid
When I opened the car door she darted out
I scolded her
“Sandy no”
She cried again
I didn’t want to make her cry
She’d been through enough
I walked her through my yard
Before shutting the gate
And leaving her to explore on her own
While I watched curiously
She seemed alright
I fed her dinner
And watched her as she ate
Selfishly on guard
Keeping every last bit to herself
It wasn’t her fault
Just a habit
Like the barking and crying
From her crate
All night long
It wasn’t her fault
She was a fighting dog
It was how she felt safe
But I hoped she’d learn
She was safe
And seven years later
When my son patted her head
Tears streaming from his eyes
Brown like Sandy’s
And broken like hers were once
I looked into her eyes one last time
They broke me again
Even though they were no longer broken