Good Boy

Did you Lose a Friend?

photo by Poet. Cooper.

We murdered our dog today.

Or at least that’s how it feels.
We say it’s for the best.
We say he’s suffering.
But, it feels like a pointless death.

He ran into the vets office.
A Good Boy with cancer.
He tripped twice, bumping a wall,
and peed for the last time.

What did he think as he went inside?

Did he trust us to heal him?

Every day is a new day to a dog,
even when they suffer.
They are good. Better than us.
We are not worthy of them.

That Good Boy waited on the table.
He wheezed and sneezed snot.
A lung full of death,
a tumor in his head.
He seemed ok, not so long ago.

The nurses held him,
while Kevorkian stuck him.
Once, Twice, Third time’s
the charm.

That Good Boy relaxed.
He laid down, and was gone.
I felt him leave.
He went through me,
and I died, inside.