I watch them pass

each and every day.

I see them look

but simply walk away.

They smile when they see me

but suddenly frown in dismay.

"This dog is a mutt," they scoff,

leaving me to stay.

Am I not good enough?

Did I do something wrong?

I can't help but wonder:

why have I been here so long?

Is it because of my past?

How I was once abused?

Nobody wants a dog

who's been this bruised.

"This dog is too old," one person says,

but I can't help my age.

I guess I'm not good enough,

and I'll always be in this cage.

Until one person,

so happy and kind,

stopped at my cage,

like I was a great find.

The little kid smiled;

he waved at me with glee.

I barked as he did

and wagged my tail happily.

This one human—

he didn't care

whether I was old or young

or had scruffy hair.

He saw how lonely I was

and knew what I needed.

Despite how I was different,

he noticed my pleading.

It was fine that I was old.

My tragic past was okay.

Sure, I'm not perfect;

he thought so anyway.

I thought my day would never come,

but it's finally here!

I'm being taken home;

I am so full of cheer!

I'll have a family!

Someone to love!

I'll be loved back,

and my cage I'll be free of!

I'll always owe my life

to this little boy.

He finally took me home

and gave us both joy.

I've come to realize

why he and I never part.

It's because only a small child

could have such a heart.

To him, I was extraordinary,

although I looked gruff.

I'll never think again

that I'm not good enough!