I Hope She Understands

A poem for my sick little beagle

Cherry, photo by author

I know you don’t feel well, and I don’t know why.

You’ve thrown up throughout the day, and at least it’s gotten better?

I know you can’t speak English, but I wish you did.

I hope you understand that I’m not mad at you,

About throwing up on my carpet or the bean bags.

I love you so much more than the money I’ll lose paying someone to professionally clean the carpet.

I love you so much more than the vet bill I’ll see if you keep feeling bad.

I keep telling you this and that I love you but you don’t speak English.

You keep lowering your head when I look at you like you think I’m mad.

I hope you understand that I love you,

And all these kisses on your face are my way of showing you.

It’s honestly fine that you threw up on the bean bags, I wanted to throw them out anyway.

It’s just that I can tell you’re uncomfortable because you keep readjusting your body.

But when you can finally rest I want to take a thousand pictures.

I hope you understand that I’m obsessed with you,

All my coworkers are sick of seeing pictures of you, are sick of hearing me talk about how I miss you.

I let you under the covers so that you can be warm.

I buy you toys and treats and play with you to keep you happy.

And if you throw up again, in the middle of the night, I won’t mind taking you to the vet.

You’re the cutest, prettiest, best little beagle a girl could ask for.

I hope you understand that I’m not mad and that I love you more than anything.