by Robin Loving

Created on: September 08, 2008   Last Updated: December 31, 2011

Three Weeks Worth of Food

Moe jumped in the car

And his Dad closed the door

A day at the lake

Was all he lived for.

He was armed with a ball

But things didn't feel good

In the back was his bed

And three weeks worth of food.

Moe thought of the ducks

And a long, cooling swim

His mouth full of ball

Made a big yellow grin

Maybe they'd camp

Now, THAT would be good.

 In the back was his bed

And three weeks worth of food

When they drove past the lake

He looked at his Dad

He thought he sensed grief;

(A dog's version of sad).

But right past the park

The river, the lake.

Right past the burgers

Where sometimes they ate...

Right past the dream

Of a perfect,  sunny day.

Right to the door...

Where dogs never play.

He looked at his Dad

But his Dad looked ahead

Then opened the door

Grabbed the food and the bed

Moe dropped the wet ball

On the floor of the car

A gift for his Dad

A little sad scar.

He was led just inside

Where a 'badge' took his leash

His Dad wiped his eyes

Signed a form of release.

Moe watched the tall man

With a pain, dogs can't spell

Walk out of his life...

He was led to a cell.

Moe's first single thought

As the bars closed him in, was

He'd never chase a ball

In the sunshine again.

His last single thought

As the needle went in, was...

He'd never understand

How he'd lost his best friend.

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