Doberman

She’s beautiful

            that’s the first thing people say about her

She’s big

            that’s the second thing people say about her

She’s dangerous

            that’s the third thing people say about her

I didn’t know that

            was the last thing they said about her

Tall, regal, proud

            docked tail, pointed ears, keen eyes, square frame, stately figure bred into her

                        It would all be torn from her as well

Intelligent, smart, cunning

            years of breeding, instinct to defend, humans they made her mind

                        They would destroy it as well

Change of hands

            Family of two to a family of three to no family at all

Big hands, strong arms

            Always away from her snapping maw

Bed replaced with bars

            Cold steel cramping every inch of her body

            Grated patterns ruining every hair on her coat

Red teeth marring everything else

            But she was always a fast learner

Big, Bad, Barbarian

            muscles, sharp edges, vigilant eyes, shadows

                        brought out into the open

vengeful, vicious, Rotten

            aggression, durability, cunning, instincts to kill

                        brought out into the limelight of the fighting ring

Another fight, odds stacked against her

            So many practice fights lost, this would be the first real one - or the last

But it wasn’t, not for her anyways

            Two fresh dogs, hanging to the vestiges of memory

            But it was her who let go

The same way she let go of the limp patch of skin she had clung to in the last moment

            Blood on her gums

Murderer

            All she could be and would be now

            Until the tables turned

More fights, more bets

            Always currency changing hands around her as she strained to get free

                        Of that cramped cage

            Even if only to be backed up against a wall, the tables always turned

            And when she struck there were no walls

                        Blood flowed freely in the ring

Odds in her favor for this round

            She charged from her cage snarling

            Smaller dog but wider than she - not intimidating or intimidated

Backing the her against the wall

            Eyes gleaming

                        From the light

                        From the fight

                        Dying out into the night

Their positions flipped, and she bellowed back - refusing to go down

Again she changed, changed the game

            Was that what this was? A game

            Some sick and twisted game

            Some adrenaline rush, gushing through her blood

            Onto the dirt floor

The her went down, went down fighting - until she lost

She paced the ring, victorious and lost

Dwindling Body

            Would soon be unable to move

Lost mind

            Where to go and what to do

Was it worth it...to continue?

            Maybe one day her body would say no.