going to the vet

you take your dog
in for shots.
for teeth cleaning.
for nail clipping,
and to be weighed,
prodded and poked.
it's the jiffy lube
vet visit where at
some point someone will
come out with a chart
and say, you know,
we really should get
him a new kidney.
he's trembling in
your arms, too scared
to even bark, so
you put him down next
to his life long
nemesis, a cat.
he looks at you
with those enormous
brown eyes, saying
why would you do
this to me. i thought
we loved each other.
how could you?
and then the little girl
in pigtails comes out,
the doctor
in a pink baggy
jumpsuit, she smiles
and snaps a leash
around his neck
to lead him off
into the back rooms,
cooing his name, as if
they are developing
a friendship. i
see him making himself
weigh a hundred
pounds, turning himself
into lead, not moving
his feet, being
dragged on his paws
across the tiled floor.
and as he looks back
over his shoulder, he
shakes his head at
me and sighs, i
can see his lips
moving, saying, really,
like what the hell?