"chihuahua" poems
When I am older I will be just like my Nan,
Streaking my naked body every Wednesday to the delivery man.
I will have a chihuahua,
Drink my milk when its sour,
Use by dates will mean nothing,
For 10 year old bread makes a good stuffing,
I will live off many cups of tea
Every ten minutes have a ***
Hoard a thousand tin of beans in the draw,
We all know we need them when we're at war,
I will be superstitious,
And make food taste delicious,
I would be head of my family, head of my herd,
My word will be final, anyone else's word is absurd,
Anyone who calls me 'dear',
will get a slap around the ear.
YES,
I want to be just like my Nan,
Every Wednesday streaking to the delivery man.
Feb 17, 2013
Feb 17, 2013 at 4:08 PM UTC
Wussup, professional Latina?
Diversity been good 2 U?
Water warm enough 4 U?
Shaking down enuf rich gringos
to fund your Non-Profit?
(*speak against capitalismo here*)
Got time for la Revolución after your pedicure today?
(mention the border here)
still watching Oprah, Abuela?
heard from your third ex-husband recently?
Wussup consummate professional.
(*turn on NPR here*)
Got nail polish? Got car waxed? Got investments?
(take a networking business lunch here)
Have you streaked your hair enuf?
(mention indigenismo here)
I hope you are caring well for all the nietos
and still have time to be a tiburona
(insert italicized Spanish word here)
How are all your gente ?
(*mention mujeres fuertes here*)
Hey Latina - when did you move out of the barrio ?
(*mention La Raza here*)
Mujer Latina—wussup.
how is Gringolandia workin' out 4 U ?
(turn off Univision here)
'cause if the oppression gets too bad
you could always move back
to Venezuela
or Chihuahua
or San Juan, or...
(*mention Trump here*)
...Miami?
Apr 22, 2017
Apr 22, 2017 at 7:01 PM UTC
When the wind blows from the front,
You'll feel the nostalgia,
Hear the hustle and bustle of fishermen,
Crunching cockle shells under their boots,
Smell the sweet smelling tobacco from pipes,
The toil and hardwork heavy in the air.
Knocking you from the moment,
A faked tan man with a chihuahua,
Hear the cackle of faked laughter,
Clattering of stilletto heels upon cobbles,
Smell the alcohol laced ***** spilling from mouths,
The fruits of labour heavy in the air.
Jan 22, 2014
Jan 22, 2014 at 3:24 PM UTC
A squirrel dog in a tree
Looked down at me
"I'm half a Chihuahua"
"So how are ya"
I was too shocked to walk
I never knew dogs could talk
"I'm fine, thank you"
"What do you do?"
"Not much" the squirrel dog said
"Hang around here before bed"
"We dogs really have brains"
"Hiding in trees when it rains"
I wondered if I had gone mad
Was this some passing fad?
"How do I know you're real?"
"What's the real deal?"
"Well, I'm as real as can be"
"it's the squirrel in me"
"Now I have to run away"
"So I'll wish you a good day"
Apr 7, 2014
Apr 7, 2014 at 5:21 PM UTC
Poema Code Switching
By Aylin Soto-Aleman, Mercedes Caballero, Jesus Martinez, Marta Silva, Alex Alejandre
16.4.15
El final de una etapa
The end,
The beginning of a new journey
un camino
A un mundo extranjero
Un deseo, un sueño
A dream
Haciendo mi propio path
un camino
rostros nuevos , new failures
historias nuevas , new experiences
a sequel to my story, con hojas rotas
y mojadas
INMIGRACION
La memoria es un salto
entre continentes
crossing invisible borders
swimming in the rios
corriendo debajo del sol
La memoria es los abuelitos
ancestors cooking arroz y frijoles,
flan, driving through for hamburgers,
popcorn, sipping on horchata
Basilica
No todo lo que brilla es oro
not all rainbows and butterflies,
Clarita y sus cien años
Ruben y sus Tacos del Camino Real
El rancho
Midnight movies
Quiero a quien me quiera
It’s been a long day, without you my friend
Mexicanos al grito de guerra
Oh, say can you see by the dawn’s early light
Tepechitlan, Jerecuaro, Guanajuato
Long Beach, Argentine, KCK,
Chihuahua,
A Distance Between Us
El puente, the bridge.
Three Little Pigs en casa, at home,
don't step out marranitos,
la llorona te va a llevar
Memory is a leap
between continents
Cruzando fronteras invisibles,
Nadando en los rivers
Running under the sun
Born in different places
Pero las mismas intenciones
May 30, 2015
May 30, 2015 at 1:39 PM UTC
come here. i’ll wrap myself around you
most of the time i’m sure i’m a sliding glass door
obvious like a schoolgirl crush
never able to hide the pink in my cheeks
or bury the truth behind enough broken parables
i’m about as vigilant as a chihuahua
perched on top of a sofa barking at the mailman
forgetting for a moment that you could pick me up
and put me down on the floor but
i promise i’ll just jump back up again
never fully accepting the plainness of my bluff
the winters crack my knuckles but
i don’t want to buy another pair of gloves
i’ve got ripped fingernails turned ******
and a kitchen sink full of unwashed mugs
and you’re pulling my hands away from my face
trying to show me how much we look the same
Mar 27, 2021
Mar 27, 2021 at 9:05 AM UTC
Cocoa. My mom's whole world. Her pride and joy. She's in real trouble folks. Last night she consumed over an ounce of dark chocolate. She also got into chicken bones. She needs divine intervention. We can't afford to take her to the veterinarian again. All prayers and good thoughts are appreciated. I am weeping. She's an important member of our family. She may only be a dog. The she is as important to God has anyone else. And my mother would be devastated by her loss.
I may not be able to read this morning. I'm going to be in My Sanctuary on the front porch praying. I'm not going to church because my job now is to watch after the dog. She is a beautiful little animal. A deer head chihuahua. The original breed of that dog. She was the companion animal to the Toltec. Very rare because she is also a brindle brown. I saved her from an abusive puppy mill ******* and raised her all on my own. I love her. I have no children. She's my baby. Please help. Thank you.
PLEASE REPOST THIS SO OTHERS SEE IT! I don't care about stats. But Cocoa needs all the good thoughts and prayers she can get! ♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡
Catherine :')
Mar 13, 2016
Mar 13, 2016 at 12:20 PM UTC
HE lived on the wings of storm.
The ashes are in Chihuahua.
Out of Ludlow and coal towns in Colorado
Sprang a vengeance of Slav miners, Italians, Scots, Cornishmen, Yanks.
Killings ran under the spoken commands of this boy
With eighty men and rifles on a hogback mountain.
They killed swearing to remember
The shot and charred wives and children
In the burnt camp of Ludlow,
And Louis Tikas, the laughing Greek,
Plugged with a bullet, clubbed with a gun ****
As a home war
It held the nation a week
And one or two million men stood together
And swore by the retribution of steel.
It was all accidental.
He lived flecking lint off coat lapels
Of men he talked with.
He kissed the miners' babies
And wrote a Denver paper
Of picket silhouettes on a mountain line.
He had no mother but Mother Jones
Crying from a jail window of Trinidad:
"All I want is room enough to stand
And shake my fist at the enemies of the human race."
Named by a grand jury as a murderer
He went to Chihuahua, forgot his old Scotch name,
Smoked cheroots with Pancho Villa
And wrote letters of Villa as a rock of the people.
How can I tell how Don Magregor went?
Three riders emptied lead into him.
He lay on the main street of an inland town.
A boy sat near all day throwing stones
To keep pigs away.
The Villa men buried him in a pit
With twenty Carranzistas.
There is drama in that point...
...the boy and the pigs.
Griffith would make a movie of it to fetch sobs.
Victor Herbert would have the drums whirr
In a weave with a high fiddle-string's single clamor.
"And the muchacho sat there all day throwing stones
To keep the pigs away," wrote Gibbons to the Tribune.
Somewhere in Chihuahua or Colorado
Is a leather bag of poems and short stories.
2.8k
life is a chihuahua -
somedays it smiles
at you - stroking it's back
wondering when
it's gonna bite ya
- life is a chihuahua.
r ~ 10/26/14
Oct 26, 2014
Oct 26, 2014 at 9:47 AM UTC
I cough and laugh and smile with thoughts of you,
I remember that bit of annoyance that would break your lips,
that shift in your eyes.
It's been almost as long as we dated.
What did you think in September? I forgot until it was October and
then I realized and thought;
where are you and what are you up to
I've been listening to artist and songs that you showed me,
I like them more now, a sort of time machine.
I think of you when I ********** not every time.
Just when I'm feeling sad.
I think of you when I make eggs and when I use my laptop
I think of you when I see anything of Beauty
I think of you when I see a chihuahua or a golden lab.
When I take acid I think of you and get so **** happy
and I just wish for you to be happy
and I wish for things to be okay
and I wish I could just say hi
and I wish things weren't weird between us.
And maybe it's not.
I stay in this house and see what could've been,
some altered dimension
with pictures of our friends and family on the walls,
dog beds covering the ground.
Our toothbrushes in their chargers on the sink.
Your Halloween decorations still up;
I bet in a couple of months it'll look like
The Nightmare Before Christmas on our porch.
I have no idea what will happen in the years to come;
I just hope you're doing well.
Nov 5, 2018
Nov 5, 2018 at 5:42 PM UTC
If I had a blog what would it be ?
Would I blog about twitting?
Tweet about texting?
Text about bloging?
Will I sip on an organic double frappuccino?
Will I miss MJ?
Will I have a tea cup Chihuahua?
Will I hate the hills?
Will I be dealing with bulimia?
Watching TMZ?
Liveing green?
Will my iPhone my big sunglasses be in my louis vuitton handbag?
Will all this be something to talk about?
Will it still be "in"?
Or will outher things that I hate take it's place?
Will my blog be overrated?
Or will only old ppl like it?
Or will it be, anti-social anti-fashion
I hate everything even myself
self mutalating artsie fartsie
wannabe rabel who are also AS over rated
whatever...
((If I wred this blog, I'd hate it))
Jan 17, 2011
Jan 17, 2011 at 10:42 PM UTC
Down from Arizona desert cold, absence of ice and snow
three white painted terracotta pots
by the Villa apartment on the tabled walkway—
Christina’s place.
Stacked, each alternately inverted one to the next
stabilize a snowperson body.
Can you picture it?
Black painted buttons all the way up?
Lips of dots, an orange twist of nose,
deep eyes void black.
Burgundy scarf tied around the neck,
positioned just so, it could be fit
to a Christmas Chihuahua.
By its playful form and surprising attitude,
may it well succeed at pleasing every passerby
and draw out, on each scroogey face, a smile.
It’s been doing just that for me, as I park
opposite each night, my headlights there shining.
Still, I have not and shall not peak inside
the alluring, open terracotta skull,
since I have imagined not wishes,
nor disappointments, nor elves and cookies,
but practical ash, randomly spiked with spent cigarettes.
Last night, as I walked out, with my night’s anticipations,
my grab-bag of happy tangles, Christina’s hanging silver chimes
issued soft whispering over terracotta, and I caught
a remembrance of Amazing Grace how sweet the sound.
Mojo my psychic dog turned me sharply then:
he took me away–we two, hunting the moon
in a starless night.
Dec 14, 2015
Dec 14, 2015 at 10:58 PM UTC
Hace frio.
Llueve.
Me gusta
Cuando llueve.
El agua
Baila
En las casa.
Yo Miro.
Escucho
A el agua;
Yo estoy
Feliz.
Hoy es
Sábado.
Y llueve,
Siempre.
Pero,
Yo corro.
Yo corro y yo corro
Cuando llueve.
Llevo
Los pantalones cortes
Además llueve
En sábado.
Yo descanso.
Yo estoy cansada.
“Yo no trabajo más,” yo hablo.
Pero yo aprendo,
Yo trabajo, siempre.
Pero, yo estoy feliz
Cuando yo trabajo
Porque, me gusta sábado
Y llueve, siempre,
Y yo bailo con el agua.
Canta, el agua.
Canta a me.
En sábado frio,
Nosotros cantamos,
El agua y me.
Sábado es bueno.
Sábado es simpático.
Me gusta sábado
Cuando el agua y yo
Cantamos y bailamos.
Pero no me gusta lunes,
Martes, miércoles,
Jueves, viernes.
Porque yo estoy en la casa,
No en la escuela.
Mi madre, no, mi madrastra
Es mala y seria.
“No les gustas,” ella habla.
“Tú eres débil y pobre. No les gustas,”
Ella habla otra vez y otra vez.
Pero, en sábado,
Yo corro.
Porque yo no trabajo
Para mi madrastra
En la casa mala.
Yo corro, cuando
Miro una la chica.
No ella baila en el agua.
No ella canta en el agua.
¿Por qué?
Ella mira me.
Ella habla, “Hi. My name is Basil.”
Yo hablo, “No hablo inglés.”
Ella habla, “Ok. Me llamo Basil.”
Basil. Un nombre bonito.
Basil habla, “¿Cómo te llamas?”
Yo hablo, “Catrin.”
“Mucho gusto, Catrin” Basil habla.
“Igualmente, Basil” Yo hablo,
Pero no nosotros paseamos.
“¿Estas tu nuevo aquí?” Basil habla.
“No,” Yo hablo.
“¿Estoy yo tu amiga?”
“No.” Ella habla, “¿Por qué?”
“El agua es mi amigo uno,” y yo corro.
Yo estoy en la casa.
No me gusta la casa.
No mi madrastra está aquí.
Pero, el gato está aquí.
Me gusta el gato.
Nombre del gato es Licorice.
Nosotros descansamos.
Yo leo mi libro inglés.
Yo práctico mi inglés.
“Hello,” yo hablo, “es Hola.”
El gato habla, “¡Miau!”
Licorice gusta comer.
“Paseas con me,” Yo hablo.
Él come.
Yo miro.
Yo miro y yo dibujo.
Yo dibujo Licorice.
“¿Miau?” Licorice habla.
“Está bien, Licorice.”
Pero no está bien.
Adiós sábado noches.
Hoy es domingo y mañana.
Mi madrastra no está aquí.
Mi madrastra no está aquí sábado noches.
Que es bueno.
Hoy, yo corro, otra vez.
Yo miro la chica otra vez.
Basil pasea a me.
“¡Tú estás ilegal!” Basil habla.
“¿Qué?” yo hablo.
Yo miro.
“¿Por qué?” yo hablo.
Yo estoy triste.
Pero el agua baila y canta.
Mi casa es en Dallas Texas,
Pero yo soy de Chihuahua, México.
¿Soy yo libre?
Sí y no
Yo soy libre en México.
Sí, en Dallas,
Yo soy ilegal.
Pero cuando yo canto y bailo con el agua,
Yo soy
Libre.
Jan 31, 2016
Jan 31, 2016 at 9:42 PM UTC
You were without doubt the best dog I've ever had.
Your death has broken my heart and I'm very sad.
When I named you Agnes, I named you after my late mother.
I was your owner and you and I had a lot of love for one another.
You were a Chihuahua and you were an Applehead.
It tore me up when I learned that you were dead.
You were pretty with dark brown fur and you were small.
You weren't just a dog, you were also my baby doll.
I owned you for almost seven wonderful years.
I found you dead in my kitchen and it drove me to tears.
What I'm about to say is no lie, it's one hunded percent true.
You were my baby doll and your Daddy will always love you.
Jul 26, 2020
Jul 26, 2020 at 1:24 PM UTC
'So It Begins...'
once upon a time
there was a girl
who always ran around in circles
figuratively, of course
not literally, because if she was literally always running in circles, she'd pretty soon be dead
but that's neither here nor there. back to the girl
she had no idea that she did this
but everyone around and about
was painfully aware of her issues
she was convinced that she was always coming up with new and exciting ideas
when really she just spent all her time recycling her own idiocy
and she became increasingly irate as all the things that she kept around
even though she would never admit that she intentionally kept them around
started to seem wrong
or used
or just completely foreign
until a magic prince
with a magic want
who totally dug the fact that this chick was entirely self obsessed and weird
and pretty much certifiable
snuck in the middle of the night
and robbed the ***** blind
however
because the guy took all her worthless
pointless
and in the end
meaningless baggage away with him
she replaced her former obsessions with stalking him
and he became her magic want
which he severely regretted soon enough
because with her circular habits
her stalking efforts were not unlike being relentlessly pursued
by a small
angry
but not entirely unaffectionate
chihuahua
he fully intended for her to stalk him from the beginning
but unfortunately
as he had been raised in a pseudo-feministic
yet highly romanticized society
he was under the false impression that once this chick started pursuing him
she would give in to her basest wants
and deep seated but repressed desires
that every girl has but doesn't admit
to ending up with a magic prince
he was wrong
there
was
no
fairytale
and once she caught up with him
the relationship that ensued
became a vicious cycle of marriage, divorce, and remarriage
because he had been ****** in
to her circularity.
the end
Feb 13, 2010
Feb 13, 2010 at 6:28 PM UTC
Howls in the night
Keep sweet Morpheus at bay
Some things just aren't right
That ******* cat is having his way
With the Neighbor's chihuahua again
STUPID CAT!
Rats are for EATING, not for making love!
Apr 2, 2012
Apr 2, 2012 at 9:40 AM UTC
I adopted my Chihuahua Dog two years ago today.
I'll be Agnes's last owner, she's here to stay.
I adopted her in Morristown, Tennessee.
I am lucky because Agnes is with me.
Two years has been how long I've known her.
I'm very happy and proud to be her owner.
Aug 27, 2015
Aug 27, 2015 at 6:31 PM UTC
Really..? R or Top hat or Woody or James
who ever you really are.
.........
r commented on my poem ''Poetry'' and said....
''I don't usually respond to children or little nuts that fall from an oak tree, but since you addressed me specifically, I will. You are apparently clueless about the true character of your daddy woof. If you want to be a little fly buzzing around his piles of Chihuahua crap that he calls poetry, feel free. Leave me out of your juvenile postings. You don't know me fallen acorn, so I choose not to respond.''
....................
You blocked me, cause I called you out and you knew that I was going to respond to your comment.
You called me a child, I'm 16 and I'm way more matture than you...
hint hint: fallen acorn..... Really...? Come on r you could have done better than that. Thats was corny and so unoriginal. :)
I really wasn't trying to get involved with this. But I was going to defend my friend and let you know what was good.
........I'm leave it right here. But come at me again and we (just me and you) are going to have some really big problems. <--thats not a threat either...its a promise that I intend on keeping.
Jan 6, 2016
Jan 6, 2016 at 1:38 PM UTC
Tuesdays remind me of third grade
and so does astrology.
Our tables formed a pentagon, it was me and the beautifuls:
come the good-looking maid called Destinee
with two e’s, not one and not even a y, she had two e’s.
I modeled myself after her cerulean lenses
eye sockets that were pulled back by dinosaur bones
and gave wrinkles to her forehead prematurely, six speckles
like ostrich eggs gathering under a stratum of mud.
She was dark-headed, she wasn’t fair.
She had sorcery in her collar, fairies in her pulse.
Her mother had the name of a Chihuahua or evil witch:
I secretly cursed her for having a daughter so lovely
who I could not peck on Tuesday field-trips to a menagerie
just because she was as feminine as me.
That is how I learned about destiny
and Destinee, so pretty pretty.
Apr 9, 2013
Apr 9, 2013 at 7:16 PM UTC
you are everything
you are everyone
you are every cliche
you are the sun,
you are the stifling heat
that cannot be escaped
you are valentines cards
misdirected and misshaped,
you are hotmail,
you are myspace,
you are my face,
hungover and exhausted,
you are lost kids,
you are something that was fun,
you are not getting shotgun,
you are beer
that's been in the sun
too long,
you are a sad song,
that's not been made better,
you are the hole in my sweater,
or my pockets,
you are the chalky sugar that's
passed off as rockets,
you are the first drummer of the beatles,
you are evil,
and i don't mean that jokingly,
you are choking me,
like turtlenecks,
or high stake bets,
made on the wrong team,
you are what seems like
a good idea at the time,
you are past tense,
you are jeans caught in the fence
preventing teens from sneaking in,
you are cold wind on a dry winter's day,
you are Coldplay's last two albums,
you are too much talcum powder
you are convenience store flowers,
you are forced,
you are hoarse
voices in place of song,
you are wrong,
you are the weakest link,
you are outdated references,
you are beverages,
that have lost carbonation,
you are hesitation
that leads to regret,
you are the new york mets,
you are first impressions
that i make on the elderly,
you are Beverly Hills Chihuahua,
you are foie gras,
you are aqua
and their music in my head,
you are cold beds,
warm beer,
empty freezers,
old tears,
fake appeasers,
new fears,
you are the moments
when it feels like no one's near,
you are searching for Waldo for hours,
you are any buildings "bigger" than the cn tower,
you are fake,
you are first date awkward silence,
you are last date awkward silence,
you are violence,
you are hybrid suvs,
you are bees,
you are black flies,
you are forgetting an event is black tie,
you are something nice to forget,
you are socks that are wet,
you are the slow driver in the left lane,
you are fame,
you are fleeting seconds
never to be recaptured,
you are the man on the corner
screaming about rapture,
you are actors selling out,
you are stains on a couch,
you are lost remotes,
you are failed attempts to save face,
you are everything
that has ever graced
this time and space,
here and above,
you are everything,
you are love...
Jun 30, 2012
Jun 30, 2012 at 5:12 PM UTC
As my Precious sits on my desk,
shedding and watching with interest.
I take a drink from my cup.
A hair sticks to my tongue..eew yuk.
She is pleased with herself and wags,
her tail, hair flies off like flags.
They are small, black and everywhere.
Making patterns on all of the chairs.
Little drifting smiles of hair,
residing on my clothes without care.
This much hair from a small Chihuahua,
it's not possible, no not at all.
It's not as if she's going bald.
But then, Kojack, she could be called.
Oh look! You have some hair that she's shared.
I'll take care of that, you wait right there.
I'll just run and get my trusty lint roller.
Better yet! I'll get my leaf blower.
Aug 24, 2010
Aug 24, 2010 at 7:10 AM UTC
This morning, I experienced some good luck.
I bought a Chihuahua for one hundred bucks.
My new dog is brown and his name is Red.
He will be my dog for many years ahead.
Like other dogs, he probably loves to gnaw on bones.
Red makes the third Chihuahua dog that I own.
Nov 11, 2018
Nov 11, 2018 at 8:35 PM UTC
I bought my newest dog one year ago, today is our first anniversary.
Last year, some nice people cut the price in half and sold him to me.
When I bought him, I only paid one hundred.
They sold me a Chihuahua and his name is Red.
I take care of him and he lives in my basement.
When I bought him, it was a hundred bucks that was well spent.
When I bought him, I was amazed at how fast he warmed up to me.
Red is very pretty with brown fur and today is our first anniversary.
Nov 11, 2019
Nov 11, 2019 at 6:06 PM UTC
This offends me as a vegan transgender hipster democrat voting Native-American-Indo-Chinese socialist anarchist hybrid illegal alien agnostic-atheist Germanic social engineering major dropout who only vapes fair-trade organic non-GMO decaffeinated French-pressed compressed and hydrated extra-skim grass-fed only protein soy breast milk on the regular and does Hindi Kama Sutra naked crossfit hot yoga 5 times a week. And frankly, since I am also a non-binary tri-gender genderqueer male feminist and I identify as a proponent to legalize cannabis and a Rastafarian, pansexual, genderfluid, Apache helicopter beta mutt of mega multi alpha beta gamma delta omega combo god of hyper death who's adamant about polygamous polyamorous relationships with an pure-bred alpha chihuahua which helped me cross the border of Mexico to let love trump the hate and get a job 3-D printing pink ***** hats all day. My dog also walks me to the local skate park and doggy styles me, while my gender neutral photographer neighbor takes pictures and sells them on the dark web antifa site and if you find that weird you're an ignorant arrogant homophobic gender-assuming globophobic bloodthirsty bacon-loving gun-toting cis-gender pan-sexual patriarchal incestuous sexist racist white-privileged misogynistic populist biased objectified white-privileged anti-communist **** indoor tanning Cheetos cheese-puff-loving republican.
Jun 15, 2017
Jun 15, 2017 at 4:15 PM UTC
It was his birthday, his fourtyninth year,
sat at his computer, he hadn't a clue.
Our son placed her on his chest without fear,
but, his big hands, didn't know what to do.
She looked up at him, with eyes dark and clear.
He fumbled to hold her, his discomfort grew.
She gave a big yawn, then gave a small belch.
I could see, that his smile, he tried to squelch.
He turned his attention then to our son,
who pointed at me, trying to shift blame.
Said, "Maybe you'll tell me just what you've done!"
"Happy Birthday" we cried, playing the game.
She then licked his thumb, with her pink tongue,
He tried to look stern, but his heart she did tame.
With her tiny black nose, she gave a shove
and just like that, he was in puppy love.
**Authors note: This little 1/2 pound Chihuahua
melted his heart and let him love
a dog once more. Not since our Siberian Husky
died over 8 years ago, had he even looked
at another dog. "Precious" allowed him to love anew
without fear of a broken heart once again.
Dec 17, 2010
Dec 17, 2010 at 12:37 PM UTC