This is not a happy poem,
although the dog didn’t die,
the hip dysplasia,
a result of carelessness and
homeless dogs and
indiscriminate sex
and just plain bad luck means
the vet bills could possibly bankrupt me
but I love the dog
and she has to stay until the pain drives her
to need release
i hate to think of it that way
but it’s reality.
another person,
with another bankroll
would make it work differently
but could not love her like me.