I sit quietly, alone in the back of my kennel.
People come and go, sometimes they will ask
“What kind of dog is that?”
The staff says, “Oh, he’s just a mutt, he’s nothing
That’s me, I feel like nothing special now.
Many people come and go and it’s always the
“Oh, he’s just a mutt, he’s nothing special.”
I guess they are right, cause I’m still here and
Yet another lady comes by and asks, “What kind
of dog is that?”
And once again, “nothing special”
This lady seems different. She crouches down and
says “Come here boy.”
I hesitate and try to ignore her so I am not
Something in her voice, in her eyes… I can’t help
I go to her and wag my tail, her touch is gentle,
her voice is kind.
She says to me… “Come on boy, you are going
home with me because
To me you are Something Special.