It was that rancid smell that made me drive
her off. Damn! What a foul stench! Of course she
fought and cried. Of course. How would she survive
on her own? Who would take in a dirty
thing like her? No one, I am sure. That smell
of hers just wouldn’t wash off. No. Call me
a beast, if you will. Say that there’s a hell
for bad parents who desert their needy
children. I’m sure there is but I don’t care.
What was I going to do with her? Me!
I am no believer in myths. A prayer
only works if someone hears it and we
are deaf. Abandoned down by the river;
she is human now, a fox no longer.