One by one I watch them pass
Don’t they know that today is my last?
I watch the younger dogs come and go,
It’s all over today—Don’t they know?
I hear the footsteps come down the hallway
Please Lord, Don’t them take me today!
A little boy stops to stare,
But continues on without a care.
And elderly man and wife stroll by,
The others jump, and whine, and cry.
I stare in silence, and hope for the best,
But they pay me no attention and look at the rest.
A Booming voice floods my cage,
But it sounds faint to me in my old age.
She unlatches the gate pats my head.
I wag my boney tail, hoping to be fed.
But today she fumbles, and her hands shake,
It all feels like a dream, although I am very awake.
She takes me by the collar, and leads me down the hall,
I have been paged; this is my final call.
We walk to a small room of all white,
She looks at me and says, “It’ll be alright.”
She bends down and kisses my nose.
I return the favor and lick her painted toes.
She puts me on the table and strokes me fur.
I don’t take my old eyes off of her.
She picks up a syringe lying nearby,
I start to whimper—she tells me not to cry.
My chest grows heavy; it’s hard to breathe.
I try to stay strong, for I know no one will grieve.
I am just another number, just another face.
But finally I have been set free from this place.


That's just a little something i wrote to go along with this picture. This particular dog has been at the pound for about a month, and he's looking at his last days here. Sad, huh?

Take this how you may...

~Holly