Love on a Chain

Do you know what it’s like to be ignored? I’m not talking like trying to flag down a busy bartender when you clearly have had too much to drink and should probably be shut off. I mean intentionally, maliciously ignored. When your existence is only valid when it’s fulfilling a need for someone else. I’ve spent most of my marriage waiting for affection, for attention, for acceptance. I am the forgotten dog that is chained to a weathered dog box in the backyard. I spend my days tethered to my own thoughts - quiet, small, and invisible. I have been reduced to waiting for scraps to be thrown my way or my bowl to be filled. Occasionally I get the luxury of being freed from my prison, but it’s only when I can be of use - like a dog putting up gamebirds for his shotgun toting master or providing some company when he is feeling lonely. Those small glimmers break up the monotony and silence that fill most of my days, but when my purpose has been served, it’s back to my forgotten enclosure I go.

It’s here I’ve learned to exist much like a simple minded, loyal dog does.

Don’t bark, don’t beg, don’t bite.

Always come when called.

Be useful and obedient.

Look lovingly at your master like they are a god, and maybe you’ll get yourself an extra treat or a pat of affection.

Aside from fleas, there’s not much difference between me and some hound.

I truly am just a pathetic bitch.