Lady was my first dog. The mixed breed scared me, for I had a deathly fear of dogs and she was just a few inches shorter than me. After all I was only six years old. Somehow I also felt comforted and protected looking at her friendly, dark eyes. She was extremely gentle but my fear overtook me, and I tried my hardest to steer clear of this strange yet beautiful dog. She barked at me every time she laid her eyes on me. On one occasion, I was getting ready for school, and she started to bark crazily at me. The big living room floor kept us out of range from each other, but it wasn’t big enough for me to easily run by. I slowly sidestepped against the wall of the living room, and when I was far enough away from Lady, I ran as fast as I could to the kitchen. She tried her hardest to get close to me, stretching as far as her lean body would allow her, but this just increased my fear for her. After seeing all the bigger dogs I came across on various occasions, I was biased against any dog bigger than a Chihuahua. On the other hand, I wanted to play with and walk her, but my fears held me back. As a mere first grader, I was scared by pretty much everything. One night, my dear father came into my room, and I heard him shouting at someone. I couldn’t believe what would see next. I got out of my bed. It was around 7 pm and I saw my dad grabbing lady’s neck holding her horrified and melancholy face next to the pile of poop she left in the corner in my room. My mom came in and talked him into letting the helpless dog go. I didn’t see lady again that night.
The abuse didn’t end there.
One warm spring day, my dad came to pick me up from school. It was a particularly good day, in comparison to the others I had. I didn’t even notice what was wrong with Lady. I patted her soft head, and wondered why she didn’t try to play with me. The people passing by stared in horror as they looked at Lady, my Father, and me. I looked down at her once more, and saw the white foam bubbling from her mouth. I thought she was rabid at first, mainly because of a comment said by a passing teenaged couple. "Does she have rabies" they said, keeping their distance.
"No", my dad said, smiling in a friendly manner. I had never seen an animal so sad in my life. It hurt me to see her look so sad. Later I came to find out (during a fight between my parents), that my father had stomped viciously on Lady’s head because lady was "misbehaving." My heart broke at the knowledge that my dad could do that to a poor animal.
A few days later, Lady was missing. I looked everywhere for her, but I couldn’t find her. My dad told me that he took her for a walk in the park and that she ran away. Behind closed doors, my mom had the real story. My protective dad killed the dog I was starting to get attached to. I cried, as most children would do after losing a pet.
It was my 12th birthday, and as a gift I decided I wanted to see my father. It was hot that day, and I was doing a lot of walking. I was sweating profusely. My parents decided to meet in a large park, surrounded by trees. My face lit up when I saw him sitting on a park bench. I gave him a big hug, just as I had when he brought lady home to me. After we walked around the park, I wanted to get a new pair of sneakers. We walked to a small shoe store and I picked out a pair of Air force ones, the most popular sneaker at the time. My dad purchased them for me and I gave him another hug. My parents and me
went to another park, and sat under a tree. It was getting late, and my mom decided it was time for me and her to leave. I hugged him for the last time, and never saw him again.
Last time I heard, he was in a mental institution.
Lady slipped from my memory, but not completely. Dad’s missing; I haven’t seen him since my visit to the park, and that was three years ago. I was lying in bed, talking with my little sister, when suddenly my mother came into the room with a sad, yet not surprised look in her eyes. It was an article about my father. He spent his time, I found out, committing arson, and setting cars on fire. "He has no regard for anyone but himself,” one of the quotes said. I don’t know who wrote this, but all I knew was that I was both angry and sad. The next thing I knew, my sister and I were holding each other, crying like we were in the biggest pain we had ever felt. I was in pain, for I knew he was going to jail, and my dad wasn’t the dad I knew when I was a little girl. I also couldn’t take the negative things all these unknown people were saying about him. I knew from there, he wasn’t my dad anymore, and he was completely dead to me.
Now I’m seventeen, and I don’t know where he is. I know he can barely walk. In a picture I saw last year he looks very sad. I thought I didn’t care about him, but deep down, I know I do; I just don’t know how to express those feelings anymore.
Dacia has been with Harlem Live since July of 2008. Dacia has taken the role of leader of her team and acted the part as she leads her team successfully winning three presentation challenges. 
