Just a trip to the vet, shouldn’t cause the dog to sweat.
Open the door, hop in the car, down the road, not too far.
Tail wagging, happy and panting, no howling, barking or ranting.
Get a little closer, pull in the lot, dog remembers, thought he forgot.
Getting nervous, tongue hanging out, now he knows, starting to pout.
Drag him in, through the door, try to get him to sit on the floor.
Jumps in my lap, sits and shakes, drools and slobbers while he waits.
The vet is nice, talks and soothes, gives the shot, has real good moves.
We’re happy now, heading out the door, forget the vet, don’t want any more.
The annual trip fades from mind, gets the ball, his favorite find.
Poetry & Art by Patricia Walter 2000 ©