Porch Dog

You saw me there, big eyes, tail wagging happily as you approached.
You scooped me up like a stray puppy.
You gave me what I never had.
You saw in me what none had seen before.
You brought me in, you fed me, you comforted me.
But when you saw that I was nothing more than a scared soul, you put me outside.
Once you were aware of the amount of care I required.
When you realized you would only hurt me.
When you understood that I would never make myself at home, you deserted me.
For my own good.
You put me on the porch and closed the door.
Eventually you stopped leaving food outside or water in the hopes that I would leave on my own.
You didn't want to be the one to kick me back to the curb.
You didn't want the guilt.
But I persisted.
I stayed and waited outside your door.
I looked through the windows to where I once was.
Briefly.
You closed the blinds.
I could see a silhouette.
Still I stayed.
You didn't want to be the one to break me, but I'm dying just the same.
Right here, on your porch.
You stopped looking down on your way out.
You step over me as I deteriorate.
Even when I saw the new puppy come in.
The one that would sit on your lap.
The puppy that has settled in quite comfortably.
The way that I wanted to.
The way I wished I could.
I see you feed her the same treats.
You cover her with the same blanket.
You take her on the same walks...
I should leave.
But at this point I cannot.