Sweet little Dandelion lived all alone; her bed was a barrel, her companion, a bone. The soft green grass had been slowly replaced; leaving dirt behind in the path that she paced.In the daytime she'd wait while she watched passing cars. In the darkness she'd wish on all of the stars. In the winter she'd shiver; no escape from the cold. With no shield from the sun, summers got old.She yearned for a family and a nice, cozy bed; a scratch on the belly,...