I was somebody’s pet. But one day I ended up on the streets. I do not know if I started to lose my hair, then ended up homeless, or if I lost my hair on the streets. I was cold, hungry, and all I really wanted was a warm bed and someone’s lap in which I could place my head.
Instead, I got cold concrete and people shooing me away when I went up to them for food or affection. I do not know how long I was on the streets until, one day, someone called the guy with the funny truck. He called to me and I readily came to him. He was the first person in a long time who wanted to pet me. He gave me a few things to eat, then put me on his truck. I bounced around in the truck for a bit, but then we stopped. He brought me into a building. Inside – I have not seen inside in a long time.
A lady took me from the nice gentleman. She shook her head and, for a moment, I think I saw a tear. I could hear her tell people, “how can someone let him get this bad”. I did not know what she meant. She started to poke me with needles. I did not like that. She ran a blade over my skin. I did not like that. She stuck something up my butt. I did not like that. In the end, she put me in a kennel. It was dry. It had a bed. It had a bowl of food. I loved that.
The next day, I was told I had a heart murmur, graded 2 of 6. I was told I had demodicosis, a very severe case which has left me with only a few patches of fur. I was told I had a very bad skin infection and my feet were swollen. I was told I was underweight. I was told I was a stray, and I had only a few days for someone to claim me. I was told if no one claimed me, then they would do what they could, but it would be very difficult to find someone who would want me in this condition.
I spent my time on the medical ward. I could hear other dogs, but I could not play with them. People would come into my kennel and feed me, clean-up after me, and even give me some love. But my owner never showed up. One day, a very nice lady said she would help me. She said she had friends.
The next day, she introduced me to two of her friends. They played with me, they gave me some treats. They said I was a good dog. But then they left. I spent more times on that medical ward.
But then the day came. One of the nice ladies came back. She took me to her home. She gave me a toy. Another lady took some pictures. Then they took me to another house. This house had dogs for me to play with – lots and lots of dogs. It may not be my forever home, but the beds sure are comfy… and they call me David.