Katrina's Eyes

There have only been about 30 reunions so far between human and pet at the rescue  camp I was working at; and there are hundreds and hundreds of dogs and cats there – waiting and waiting and waiting.
 

They say that our eyes

Are the windows to our soul

After having been in the Gulf

I truly believe that this is so

The images that I now carry

In the back of my troubled mind

Are mostly those of the victims’ eyes

Both human and those of the pet kind

As I wandered a department store there

Searching for much needed pet supplies

I was struck with the look of dazed confusion

In most of the local resident shoppers’ eyes

As they slowly shuffled from aisle to aisle

Most of them couldn’t decide what to buy

What items should really be put into that cart first

They had to start over –they somehow had to try

Should they purchase knives and forks and plates

So their family members could once again eat

Or should they first get their very sad little boy or girl

At least one new little toy or perhaps something sweet

Time seemed to stand still for me as I watched them

I tried very hard to imagine the hell they were now in

And the images of those dazed human eyes in that store

Keep vividly coming back to me over and over again

And the terrified eyes of the many dogs and cats I saw

When they’re brought in crates into our rescue enclosure

Is something that will be etched in my mind until I die

They run through my head like a movie - over and over

One minute they were leading normal dog and cat lives

Very content to be with their humans on a very typical day

And within probably only minutes all hell had broken loose for them

They were alone in their homes or swimming for their lives in the fray

But even more vivid in my mind’s eye

Are the looks of sheer hope as they nervously sit in their pens

Anxiously watching each and every new human approach them

Now for endless hours each and every day - over and over again

But when they eventually realize the human approaching them

Is not the one they’re waiting for a darkness soon fills their eyes

And that’s when my heart and my soul truly begin to ache for them

And that’s when I begin to lose control and that’s when I begin to cry

©2005, Ed Kostro

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