Click in the field, then press CTRL+C to copy the HTML code
<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=530476" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>A Trip to the Vet</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=530476" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">Lately, you have been sick<br>And we just don't know what to do with you.<br>You're itching at your skin—<br>	Scratching the dry, leathery patches until they scab<br>	And ooze a mixture of blood and puss.<br>Your ears are dripping a waxy fluid<br>	And the kids choke on it<br>	When they go to cuddle with you.<br>It's not that we don't love you anymore.<br>You just don't smell pleasant anymore.<br>	You're also getting crotchety, <br>		As if you snarl at the world that did this to you, <br>		Angry at God for birthing you to become this.<br>	Your legs wobble when you walk.<br>	It looks like they could cave in at any time, <br>		Causing you to collapse, helplessly<br>			Lying on the floor.<br>	If you hadn't become so resigned to your discouragement, <br>So engulfed in the utter disappointment you have for your failing 	limbs, <br>		People might feel bad for you, <br>					But they don't.<br>You don't wake up in the morning anymore.<br>You don't get out of bed to urinate.<br>If you're comfortable, you'd rather bathe in your urine<br>	And smell like your waste.<br>			Well, whatever makes you happier.<br>	You might've lost your voice a little while back, <br>	So you can't really tell us how you feel.<br>		Some dogs bark.<br>			Others bite.<br>				You just cough<br>To clear the sand from your throat, <br>Forcing the dusty, lodged syllables out of your mouth<br>In a thick, tarry mucous.<br>	Whatever you want to say gets covered in it<br>	And sinks into the ejecting ponds of spittle.<br>		I'm sorry we no longer understand you.<br>		I'm sorry we're not there for you.<br>		I'm sorry I don't care as much as I used to.<br>		I'm sorry I don't care.<br>I try not to.</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=530476" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">	I don't want to know the pain you feel.<br>	I don't want to know what it's like<br>	To know that each step my joints are breaking inside of 	me; <br>	To know that I don't have much longer to live; <br>	To know that Death is waiting to claim me, <br>	Laughing as I hobble back to my feet in the morning.<br>		You're suffering, <br>		But you're just an animal.<br>Those can't be tears in your eyes.<br>You can't be crying.<br>You can't be crying.<br>Maybe I'd start crying<br>If I believed you were crying.<br>		Your eyes look so sad.<br>It's as if you fully realize you've seen the best of your days<br>		While you peer forward, <br>		Gazing into oblivion.<br>	I don't want you to be that way.<br>	I want to remember you as the puppy, <br>	The obnoxious bundle of energy that we couldn't shut up.<br>	I want you to bite my friends and make them get stitches<br>	Like you did when I was a kid.<br>	I want you to growl at people because they squirt you with 	a hose, <br>	Not because they won't let you rest.<br>Relax right now. I hope it brings you peace.<br>			Soon, you won't have to worry.<br>		We're taking you to the vet<br>		To check on your allergies, <br>		To refill your medications.<br>	We're trying to keep you healthy, <br>	Though we know your rambunctious days are over.<br>		I have to pick you up and put you in the backseat.<br>		Three years ago, you would hop in, <br>		But now you don't have the energy.<br>		You're gaining weight, <br>		So it's getting harder for me too.<br>You lay your head upon your folded paws<br>And stretch your body to crumple it up again.<br>You're a shedding ball of saggy, wrinkled skin<br>Red and ripe with agitation.<br>	We drive down the road for twenty minutes.<br>	I forget you're there in the silence.<br>	After being so restless for so long, <br>	You're catching up, <br>	Unable to resist the soothing sensation of closing your 	eyes.<br>As we pull into the parking lot, <br>	Your head perks up slightly<br>	And your tail begins wagging.<br>		I put you on a leash<br>		And we walk inside.<br>You aren't aggressive with other animals anymore—<br>All the hard work and effort put into training you has finally paid off.<br>	You sit politely in a chair while we wait for your 		appointment.<br>		Then the vet takes you and I wait.<br>I skim through a few articles in a few magazines from a few months ago.<br>	My eyes wander and fix on a daytime news program<br>	About another murder in the city.<br>		A half hour later, <br>		I'm informed that your sickness is only getting 			worse—<br>		That life will only be getting harder and harder, <br>		Becoming a grievance for you: <br>			A heavy burden, <br>			A suffering.<br>I am told that the most humane thing I can do for you at this point<br>Is to let them prick you with a needle filled with poison<br>And watch you slowly drift into somnolent state, <br>Dreamily letting life slip from you.<br>		All I have to do is sign the papers.<br>		That's all I have to do to say goodbye.<br>I try not to.<br>	I don't want to alleviate your senses.<br>	I don't want the guilt<br>	Of knowing I was the one that let them kill you; <br>	Of knowing I was the one who saw you die; <br>Of knowing that even if I said no, <br>		You would be in pain, <br>		Agonized by survival.<br>You're there: laying on a bed, already sleeping.<br>	Your tail is wagging.<br>	You look the best you've looked in years.<br>	From far away, you seem relieved to be here.</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><a href="http://poems.citatepedia.com/">poem</a> by <strong><a rel="author" href="http://authors.citatepedia.com/by.php?a=Tim+Stensloff">Tim Stensloff</a></strong></div>