Insensitive

For Ben

I don’t know why it affects me so.

He isn’t my dog.

Maybe I just know because

I’ve been there before,

More than once,

Too many times.

I know how you feel,

But you’re misunderstanding me.

If he throws up anything he eats,

Why let him suffer?

Why let him starve to death?

“I’m not putting down my brother.”

I did.

Does that make me insensitive?

I loved my pets,

My brothers and sisters,

Yet I put them down.

One was hit by a car.

She could have made it,

Couldn’t she?

I put her down.

One was sick.

I held him in my arms,

Covered in his own feces,

With my tears endlessly dripping

Into his dull, orange fur.

I put him down.

I let him down.

I didn’t want them to suffer.

If I had given them the chance,

Would they have pulled through?

Would they still be here?

You say you can make him better,

But I don’t believe you.

Sometimes we get sick

And we don’t get better.

I don’t know why it affects me so.

Maybe I know you’re lying there

Next to him on the ground

Crying your eyes out

Because you don’t want him to go.

I guess it makes me insensitive,

But I know you will get over him.

You love him but you’re strong.

Maybe he can’t be strong anymore.

Maybe you have to let him go.