The young couple slipped me past the doorman underneath a coat. At first the couple was smitten with me. I was quiet, and a little shy at first. I hadn't found my voice yet. They called me their baby.

Soon I was zipping and zooming around the apartment, chasing my ball, and chewing on whatever I could get my mouth on. And there was lots of stuff. Lipsticks, shoes, a text book, pencils, a Blackberry, cable wires, and tissue papers. I had found my voice! It was glorious, and it brought me the attention I craved and lots of delicious pieces of steak, chicken, fish, toast and Indian food take out.

When they left me alone, I didn't like it. I wailed. They had me locked in a tiny plastic crate for 14 hour days. I could not help it but had to go to the bathroom. I barked and barked but no one came to get me. I didn't stop barking until finally I heard their laughter as they came through the door. I started screaming with joy because my people were home! I was hungry, I was smelly, wet and sore. I had been so lonely all day. But they yelled at me to shut up, and I couldn't stop myself from barking. It worked and the door opened and I raced out into the apartment all wiggly and excited to see my people. They were not happy to see me and pushed me off of them, saying I smelled awful. I was washed off and my crate was cleaned and I was fed.

But the next day, and for another two weeks, we went through the same thing except I tried to hide when they called my name. I was good at running out of their grasp, too, but they always caught me. And they were never happy with me.  It was a daily struggle as I fought to stay out of  the lonely box. Until the day the couple stuffed me into the box for the last time and took me to the closest animal shelter.