Like the Shepard's dog,

I gathered his burden,

Herding the strays of his mind.

Like the Shepards dog,

I salivated for satisfaction,

Panted for the treat of his love.

Like the Shepard’s dog,

I barked when told,

Sat when asked,

Ran when called,

Fetched when thrown.

Like the Shepards dog,

I watched beneth the hood as she drowned in pedgiree, Lifeless and still in vacant stitch,

With a mocking gaze that seeped out,

To obey the hand that feeds you is to become the meal it feeds.

Like the Shepards dog,

I was a hound,

Lead on a leash of folklore and myth,

A useful addition to his herd.

With no sheep to tend to,

He shed the title of Shepard,

And I lost the prefix of godhood

To become what I had known: A dog.

How my title felt so honorable with you before it