At 3 in the morning, no
Barking, but an old dog fails the attempt to
Climb the stairs,
Drops back down:
Early, the dog is sick.
Fuck. Shit everywhere,
God awful stench,
Holding back my own retching,
In every room of the main floor, I’m
Juggling paper towels, disinfectant,
Kitchen linoleum scrub,
Livid, trying not to hate my dog.
My god,
Not good,
Old dog,
Poor thing. Finally, I
Quit cursing,
Remove the carpet in the
Study, drag it outside in
The morning dark for daylight hosing or disposal. It’s
Unlikely to be salvaged, like this night’s rest, a
Veritable trainwreck. Nevertheless,
We love our animals, and will do this lamentable duty, ine-
Xorably, until the very end of their days,
You know, because there is no other option.
Zounds.
Niiiiiice! Sounds like you’re speaking from experience.
Unfortunately, yes.