by Esther Abraham<\/p>\n\n\n\n
with a patchy brown coat and pale pink bruises scattered across its thin body. The first time I saw it\u2014 the dog\u2014 was curled up in the corner of an alley, as if the wall might grow arms and swaddle it, It wasn’t sleeping, the kind of stillness that isn\u2019t rest, I crouched down, my knees pressing into the rough pavement, my shadow draping like a blanket over its body, “Where did you get all these wounds?”<\/p>\n\n\n\n I asked softly, though I wasn’t sure if I expected an answer.<\/p>\n\n\n\n pain that lingers when a body has been beaten, eyes that no longer widen, I inched closer, my fingertips brushing against the matted fur, it only braced itself, as if pain had become entirely inescapable and inevitable, I let my fingers trail over its body, Scabs that hadn’t yet hardened, Injuries stacked upon injuries, When my nails accidentally dug into its flesh, the dog winced.<\/p>\n\n\n\n I expected it to snap at me, to remind me that it was still a rabid animal, Instead, it only opened its mouth slightly, not a threat, \u201cI still have these. as I moved my hands across its body, the dog licked at one of its newer wounds, the way someone might run their tongue over a sore tooth.<\/p>\n\n\n\n the dog curled its feet beneath itself, for a long time, it didn’t speak\u2014 “Because no one listens,”<\/p>\n\n\n\n I felt my chest tighten,<\/p>\n\n\n\n “I am a mutt,” it continued, voice quiet but steady,<\/p>\n\n\n\n “No one chooses to love me. I have fought before; and I have lost, its voice was hoarse, “I have attacked before. That was something else, My teeth were supposed to protect me, so I stopped. I thought if I stopped biting, Pure.”<\/p>\n\n\n\n It exhaled sharply, “But it didn’t matter.<\/p>\n\n\n\n The wounds kept coming, even when I let myself go limp,<\/p>\n\n\n\n even when I bowed my head I thought submission would save me\u2014 for I am not pure. and so I do not beg for help; I do not wish to burden
Mutt<\/em> was inspired by a stray dog that visited the porch of my home everyday for years.
She was outcasted from the other strays, they always barked at her and growled whenever
she came near. So I sat beside her one day.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
1.
I met a dog once,
a stray,<\/p>\n\n\n\n
It looked like a rag-doll\u2014
as though it had been stitched together with suffering,
every scar a seam holding together something that had been torn apart too many times\u2014<\/p>\n\n\n\n
pressed against the cold brick wall as if trying to sink into it.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
as if the wall might be kinder than people,
as if the wall could understand its tender soul.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
it simply just laid there,
eyes open, too exhausted to move.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
the kind of stillness that keeps the mind on edge,
the kind of stillness that swoops down after the body gives up before the mind can.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
instinctively I reached a hand towards it,<\/p>\n\n\n\n
my breath sounding too loud in the narrow space,
my presence already posing a risk.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
2.
The dog lifted its head slightly,
looking at me with dull pained brown eyes\u2014
eyes that had seen too much,<\/p>\n\n\n\n
but has run out of ways to react.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
no longer plead,
no longer bother.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
the dog flinched, but it didn’t run\u2014<\/p>\n\n\n\n
muscles tightening beneath its thin skin,
as if preparing for another blow\u2014<\/p>\n\n\n\n
as if resistance were pointless,
as if this were simply how things go.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
feeling the uneven texture of old wounds and fresh ones.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
deep gashes that were still wet to the touch.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
no space left to heal,
no time given to close.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
to growl,
to bare its teeth in warning,<\/p>\n\n\n\n
still capable of violence,
still capable of being something to fear.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
showing me a glimpse of its yellowed canines,<\/p>\n\n\n\n
nor a response,
simply an acknowledgment.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I could still bite.
But I won’t,\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I felt the way it trembled,<\/p>\n\n\n\n
slowly,
absentmindedly,<\/p>\n\n\n\n
3.
“Why don’t you ask for help?”
I murmured,<\/p>\n\n\n\n
and rested its head against my leg,<\/p>\n\n\n\n
then, in a voice that carried the weight of something ancient it said,<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I am filthy.
Covered in fleas.
My skin is broken, my body weak;<\/p>\n\n\n\n
against people,
against dogs larger than me,<\/p>\n\n\n\n
over and over again,\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
as if he had been screaming for years,
only for his voice to fall upon deaf ears.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I was feared once.
But that wasn’t me,<\/p>\n\n\n\n
something ugly,
something monstrous.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
but I didn’t understand
why I used them so vehemently,<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I let them dull.
I let them rot,<\/p>\n\n\n\n
if I stopped fighting,
I could be good again.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I felt its breath against my skin,
warm and uneven.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
even when I stopped fighting back;<\/p>\n\n\n\n
and laid down on my back,
exposing my throat,<\/p>\n\n\n\n
alas it didn’t,<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I am nothing but a vessel for suffering;<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I do not whimper;
I do not cry out,<\/p>\n\n\n\n
those who were born better than me,”<\/p>\n\n\n\n
<\/p>\n\n\n\n