Afraid of the Vet

A poem by Dash MacIntyre

Photo by Lachlan Ross

His eyes hang low afraid
though comforted by us around him
but it’s a false security
for we are not there to pull him through
not this time
and they put the needle in his leg ready for our cue
to flood his heart with the end
and we grab his paws one last time
kiss him on his head and grab his soft ears
nod
and he doesn’t fade away so much as in a second turn still
and tears come for the fifteen years he gave us
of laughs and amusement and big yawns and happy howls
and all the charming facets of his domestication.