As I sit in this tiny cage, my last few moments of life's final stage, I can't help but wonder my great sin that brings my life to this end. Was it that I was cuddly and fluffy, playfully cute but yet sort of scruffy, or was it that I grew lank and lean playful still but more alert and keen. My life is forfeit because I grew up, no longer a cute cuddly pup, with my life I must take the blame that many people forget baby animals don't stay the same. It is nature's plan that babies be so cute that they are protected but a sad fact of humanity that many are rejected once we have lost our baby appeal. Is it my sin or just a lousy deal?