We live in Grand Rapids Michigan on the near West Side called "West Grand". It is a shotgun house that was built around 1881. We purchased it from the grandson whose grandfather had purchased it on March 27, 1929. We have the abstract from August 24, 1850.
The neighborhood used to be called the Polish side of town, but sadly that is no longer true. It is vary diversified now and many of the homes have become rental.
DO I GO HOME TODAY?
My family brought me home cradled in their arms.
They cuddled me and smiled at me and said I was full of charm.
They played with me and laughed with me and showered me with toys.
I sure do love my family, especially the girls and boys.
The children loved to feed me, they gave me special treats.
They even let me sleep with them - all snuggled in the sheets.
I used to go for walks, often several times a day.
They even fought to hold the leash, I'm very proud to say.
These are the things I'll not forget - cherished memory,
because I now live in the shelter - without my family.
They used to laugh and praise me when I played with that old shoe.
But I didn't know the difference between the old ones and the new.
The kids and I would grab a rag, for hours we would tug.
So I thought I did the right thing when I chewed the bedroom rug.
They said that I was out of control, and would have to live outside.
This I did not understand, although I tried and tried.
The walks stopped, one by one; they said they hadn't time.
I wish that I could change things, I wish I knew my crime.
My life became so lonely, in the back yard, on a chain.
I barked and barked, all day long, just to keep from going insane.
So they brought me to the shelter, but were embarrassed to say why.
They said I caused an allergy, then they each kissed me goodbye.
If I'd only had some classes, when I was just a little pup,
then I would have been a better dog when I was all grown up.
"You only have one day left." I heard the worker say.
Does that mean I have a second chance?
DO I GO HOME TODAY?