into the animal hospital.
again.
credit card in hand.
he's eaten
parts of a dead bird, or squirrel
or some undefinable
animal,
on the edge
of the road.
he's quick with his bite
into the greying
carcass,
no pull on the leash can
stop him.
and now,
there he goes into the back
room,
muzzled, and shaking
with fear for what comes
next.
the blood drawn,
the mouth opened,
feathers and bones
pulled out,
the stomach pumped.
he knows.
he knows.
my love has weakened
for man's
best friend.
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