Dreaded journey

It's lonely in the human den. 
and there is no wind
with the day's news curling
around that draft by the door
nor new territory I can mark
and overcome their bottled scents
go back?  Would you choose to be
pulled into a moldy darkened basement
and have to wait, bladder pinched tight
until one of the pack chains you for
a too momentary visit
into the real world?