Most poodles from Runda, Ridgeways and such high-end residential areas have custom-made backyards, just to facilitate their need to exercise and run around. When they have to get out of their plush compounds, I am almost as certain as the sun will set that no big dog or monster would eat them. They walk majestically on the smooth terrain of roads, unaware of the meaning of potholes, mud and water puddles. Back in the house, these poodles must probably drink milk for breakfast, eat biscuits and juice for brunch and then have bacon and steak for dinner.
I spotted a poodle in Harambee estate this morning. She wasn’t ordinary but still just what you would expect. She was miniature, the cutest walking creature and white in colour. Her litu-paws stood out as they constantly missed on the estimated count of how far she needed to jump across the dirty puddle of water. Out of every three jumps, she missed two. She was out-of-place as it was all muddy and no leafs in this suburb. She however seemed to be in her element because none of this stopped her from running wild as if searching for her lost soul. She must have not known that her colour white is a symbol of innocence and purity because she was running aimlessly blind to the dirt.
My sister was the first to see the poodle and she shrieked, “Look at that poodle! It should be in the house!” We were picking her friend who lived around the area where the poodle was. On asking about the poodle’s whereabouts, she said that it had no home and that it spent all its days just larking about.
I have been thinking about that poodle all day. I can’t understand how such a gem, the second most intelligent breed of a dog could be homeless. It reminds me of a lot of things. I see a street child who should be off that hard-knock life. I see that beautiful woman who doesn’t deserve a battering husband. I also see that person who has given up on hope. If we look deep inside of us, we will find that we all have a poodle inside of us, running around wild waiting to be rescued. When we are faced with difficulties and harsh environments, we fail to walk with our heads up high. The poodle didn’t care that she was in the unkempt alleys of Harambee estate … Just like an unattended flower, she still blossomed. And just like the poodle, we all should too 🙂
couldn’t agree more with you,I feel like a poodle sometimes.
Same here, i want to blossom 🙂
nice bichon frise