– Steve Shoemaker, Urbana, IL, March 24, 2012

You are only two years old…
We still call you “Puppy,” and
Ears prick up, head turns, eyes lift
Even though your muscles hurt.

60 pounds now, full grown…before
Lupus hit, your tail would raise,
On alert. You’d blaze beside
Bicycles, runners, all safe–

Fenced out. Now you move slowly
Just to lie by my chair. The
Medicines seem worse than the
Damn disease: no energy,

Appetite gone, eyes dull. We
Hope, see more vets, but each day
Lose ground. If I were the sick
One, I’d raise hell, but you stick

By my side in spite of pills,
Shots, eye drops and smelly salves.
Soon we must decide: mercy?
Even more bad medicine?

Soon we will both be put down.