Still, we look for him when we go out, on
corners, by the roadside, in all the usual haunts,
with prayers too, because, after all, God cares
for the sparrow, so why not him? I wonder what
home means to such as him, if a warm bed and
full belly are all that drew him to us, if he is
really so different than any other male.
Last time he left he sojourned for two weeks,
returning battered and weak, dragging his bruised
body home. I don't know why.
Perhaps he is with his other family, enjoying their
affection, as I have heard of that before.
He wasn't always nice, you know. He had a
temper, was unpredictable too. Yet, he will be
missed, the house somehow empty without a