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.