Moe at the Mayo clinic

i remember

visiting my dog at the Mayo clinic,

after he

had eaten

another dead bird,

or mouse,

or something rancid

on the side

of the road.

it didn't take long before

he'd be sick

and staring at me,

asking me to please help.

take me in,

i'm sorry.

they put him in a nice

room,

with an IV in his paw.

a thin blue robe was wrapped

around him.

he had a window view

so that he could

bark at people walking by,

or at other dogs.

i'd come in and sit with him

for awhile

with the tv on.

i'd tell him,

you have to stop eating

dead things

and garbage in the woods

and on the road.

you're killing me here.

do you have any idea how

much this is costing me?

he'd shrug

his little shoulders,

shaking his head, then tell

me,

that he doesn't do money.