Where Home Could Ever Be

When the chef’s dog Bo was locked in the cellar
For ruining the kitchen, being not so stellar
He felt the cold air seeping through the wall
And barked and howled, wishing someone heard his call

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This whole thing is cruel and unjust. Bo thought to himself.
He’s keeping me here till I turn to dust. Bo eyed the shelf.
Then my master can live without me. Bo looked at the fogged glass.
I’m glad that window needs no key. Bo knew what to do at last.

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He got to work immediately and pushed crates around
Creating wooden ramps that were sturdy and sound
It was a stairway to freedom, fortune, and a new home
Tonight was the perfect night to start a special roam

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Bo stood by the window, and then took a pause
Was he really sure this was a worthy cause?
He knew the chef enough to know he wasn’t always mean
Whenever Bo was good, he got steak that was extra lean

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But off Bo went, past the people in the street
A car honked at him, and he scampered to his feet
Then a lady said, “Hey, you stepped on my foot.
Your owner should’ve told you to just stay put.”

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But Bo couldn’t stop when there was so much to see
Even though he felt a burning pain in his knee
See, you couldn’t put a better price on finding a new place
With folks who wouldn’t scold you, if you broke a precious vase

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Snow floated across the city like Sakura petals on the move
They glided like they were carefree, with nothing at all to prove.
When they landed on buildings, it was like frosting them like cake
Blanketing them from end to end, no matter their size or make

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Bo’s nose caught a whiff that was rich, warm and toasty
It was streusels, baguettes, and cinnamon rolls, mostly
With a tongue hanging out, he followed the scrumptious scent
He’d take anything, even a pretzel that was burnt and way too bent

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Bo stopped outside the bakery and stood on hind legs
He saw cakes and custards, made from the finest eggs
The door opened briskly, and the baker walked out
He took one look at Bo, and looked deep beyond doubt
“Shoo dog, shoo,” he said, “You are fogging up the glass.
I don’t give food for free, especially to those without class.”

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And away Bo went, his stomach grumbling with discontent
Shame enveloped him, for he couldn’t pay with a single cent
He heard the faint sound of music, which felt soothing to his ears
It reminded him of humans, the way they were in their younger years

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He came across the toy store, where the music seemed to come from
Where folks left with shopping carts full, and then some
A chew toy squeaked and bounced in front of Bo
He picked it up and looked for whoever made that throw
Then a ball of snow smacked him, and he yelped in surprise
“That’s for my dog, not you!” said a boy who wasn’t nice.

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The store’s music seemed to laugh as Bo bolted away
He shook snow from his muzzle, at a loss for what to say
His stomach growled louder with every step that he took
Smelling cooked food made him hesitant to even look

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He watched a couple outside a boutique who noticed him right back
They had a little chihuahua, who looked as sharp as a tack
The man took out a dog chew and tossed it near the street
Bo raced after it, the pain forgotten in his feet
He gobbled the chew up triumphantly, but felt his feet slipping away
Then slid underneath a parked car, hearing, “That’s the third one today!”

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The chew felt rotten as Bo froze beneath the car
The laughter seemed to reach everywhere so far
The couple still had their phones out, ready to record more of Bo
They were excited to upload this and call it a funny show.

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Spitting out the chew, Bo ran as fast as he could
He trembled in sorrow, and never thought he would
Choking back whimpers, he wandered into an alley
that was filled with more garbage than he could ever tally.

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There was a man sitting alone, wrapped in a blanket that was torn
Weathered by the elements, it was falling apart being worn
When the man saw Bo, he was silent like the night
Then looked at his wallet, holding it close, fast and tight.
Bo was shivering and dirty, miserable and cold
He couldn’t walk anymore, and his legs began to fold
He looked at the man and thought, please sir. Do not go away
I just need to rest here, if you’ll be kind to let me stay.

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The man didn’t move when Bo lay by his feet
For he saw in Bo’s eyes, what he yearned to keep

A strong home that wouldn’t flood
Or leave you covered in mud
And was hot enough to warm your food
To put you in a good mood
With a family that had a love so deep
As they tuck you in bed before you sleep

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“Look now,” said the man, as he shared his blanket with Bo
Showing his wallet he said, “Here are all the people I know.
I have no money or food, just pictures from the past
It was pleasant back then, but time went by so fast.
I left them thinking there wasn’t enough in life for me
But I already had everything, and was too arrogant to see
I made some poor choices and now for me it’s too late
I’m too old to find my folk, so I just sit here and wait
for a miracle or two, but that’s asking for so much
if it meant my family and I could ever stay in touch.”

Bo felt his heart sink and knew his roam had a cost
Just like the man, he had ended up getting lost
Now home was nowhere, and there was no one to look for
who would treat him with respect, love, and so much more.

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The man touched Bo’s collar, and then looked in the dog’s eyes
“Do you want to go home?” he asked, and Bo thought that was wise
The man closed his eyes and nodded, before patting the dog’s head
“Go on son. Run on back, just remember all I’ve said.”

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Slowly but surely, Bo left the warmth of the man
He still didn’t know in what direction he had ran
Then he felt something rough, being tied around his neck
And the man backed away, with one blanket less to wreck
Bo looked at the man. What if he got too cold?
But the man waved goodbye, telling him to do as he was told.

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Bo left the alley, looking for where he’d been
Then a car reminded him, how he fell on his chin
Tracing his steps back, he arrived at the boutique
The couple was gone, so no need to sneak and peek
He heard twinkling music, and hurried after it
And came to the toy store, where its lights were still lit
The laughter of children drowned away for Bo
For he smelled something wonderful; It was fresh cooked dough
He was back outside the bakery, and looked in once more
Then fled before the baker could again open the door
But he stopped in his tracks and looked around wildly
The snow made buildings look the same to put it mildly
He couldn’t find the cellar window where he stepped out free
There was too much snow for him, that he just couldn’t see
He collapsed on the ground, too weak to bark
And waited for snow to bury him, as the sky got dark

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But then his nose twitched, and he stood on wobbly feet
And his tail slowly wagged at the smell of cooked meat
He followed the scent behind a building to the back door
He knew the meat was lean steak and knew who it was for

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I’m home master, I’m home! Bo pawed at the door.
I was wrong for leaving you, while I was feeling very sore
More than ever I just want someone to forgive me
With a shoulder to lean on—that’s where I want to be.

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The chef opened the door to see a dog wearing a rag
who was tired and sad, but his tail seemed to wag
Bo leapt into the arms of the chef who held on tight
who said, “I thought I lost you, but I’m glad you’re alright!”

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The chef touched Bo’s rag and murmured with a tear,
“There are still kind souls out there, and I’m glad some are near.”
Bo rested his head on the chef with great relief
His roam could’ve been his last, but he was here beyond belief

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The chef said, “I’m sorry for locking you up for so long
Will you forgive me too for being so very wrong?”
And Bo looked at the chef with his big round eyes
knowing he still had life’s precious, yet fragile prize.