In the dust of a city that seldom looks twice
Ran a white dog through alleys, through shadows, through ice.
A ghost among strays. with a fire in her tread,
No collar, no name, just hunger and dread.
Los Angeles streets, in a part long ignored,
Where sirens and silence equally roared.
She ran with her pack, wild eyes sharp with need,
A heart forged in flight, in instinct and speed.
But fate took a turn on that ruthless day,
When wheels met her body and then sped away.
She lay in the gutter - hours turned to more -
Twenty-four passed before help reached the door.
A call, a kind hand, then a rush to the fight,
To keep her heart beating all through the night.
They saved her, but one leg they couldn't restore,
And Sheika awoke with three, not four.
Months in a kennel, blood drawn, soul drained,
Twice daily walks, in silence she strained.
A growl, a snarl - don't come too near -
She'd known too much to allow any fear.
Then came a name in black ink on a page.
Sharen, herself healing from life's cage,
Saw not the teeth, nor the wounds Sheika wore.
But a mirror of her own spirit - bruised to the core.
And so began a bond, deep as the sea,
Two broken hearts learning to be free.
With patience, with laughter, with long quiet days,
They stitched their souls in delicate ways.
Through canyons they wandered, and oceans they found
In each other's presence they both grew sound.
For years they danced in devotion and grace
Til age whispered gently upon Sheika's face.
The kidneys gave way, as time always dares,
And Sharen held close through tears and prayers.
As breath became silence, and fur turned cold,
A warmth flooded in - pure, bright and bold.
Sheika was running, not limping, but light,
With four perfect legs in the spirit's white night.
She turned just once, in shimmering air,
"I'm happy, she whispered, I'm already there."
With animals gone before, gardens of peace,
She romped with a joy that will never cease.
And Sharen, though grieving, felt heaven unfold
In the bond that remains, more precious than gold.
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