Poems of a mended artist.

my friend.

I watch and take care of the mess as you fall apart. 

piece by piece you die.

i see the shaking. 

the tensing as another piece dies. 

i listen as you forget your name and mine.

you lose your ability to walk straight as you fall and run into everything. 

my friend. my little friend im sorry. 

you shouldn't go through this pain. 

i hear you wining and wincing. 

in so much pain and you head aches so..

i want you to stay but i know this is torture. 

this isn't humane. 

this isn't right. 

i'm so sorry. 

you, not even being a year of age, have to go soon. 

or you will deteriorate while still alive. 

slowly become so gone that you won't be able to stand or move. 

you won't even know what is happening to you sense you will forget who you are. 

my little furry friend. 

the world did you dirty. 

the gene pool played a nasty game with you. 

those people knew what they were doing, putting relatives together. 

i hope someday they will be put to justice for causing so much pain to your fuzzy family. 

i wish i could become karma and end their cycle of causing pain. 

You shouldn't need to leave this world because living is worse than a quick death. 

You deserve to stay and live happily. 

I'm sorry you were done so dirty. 

I'm sorry for getting angry and sad..

I'm trying not to think about it...

I'm sorry. 

sometimes putting them down is the most humane way to help them. 

there is no stopping this pain he goes through so we will have to. 

any change with a treatment will only give a few percent chance of him living a year more. 

I'm sorry Maverick. I hope when you leave you find a wonderful place, you rest and play in a wide open place, endlessly safe and happy. 

I'm going to miss you, buddy.