The Weight Of His Whimpers

He sleeps with his head on my shoe,
Trusting me to see him through.
But I see the limp when he rises,
The flinch he so poorly disguises.

The vet’s light is harsh and bright—
It shines on a number I can’t write.
They say, "The tests will tell the tale,"
But my pockets are hollow, my credit is frail.

How do I tell him, with that hopeful gaze,
That love doesn't cover the x-ray maze?
That I’d trade my own bones for his pain to cease,
But I lack the thin paper to buy him his peace?

He doesn't care about bills or debt—
He only knows I haven't helped him yet.
And every morning, he still brings his toy,
Confused why I can't fix his joy.

So I swallow my pride and I type this cry,
Not for pity—but to ask, "Why not try?"
One dollar from you is a stitch in his side,
One share is a step toward turning the tide.

I don't want gold, I don't want fame—
I just want to whisper his beautiful name
Without the choke of regret in my chest.
Please, help me give him his very best.

Be the village he deserves tonight—
Be the reason I don't lose this fight.
Because his tail still wags, though it costs me tears—
And together, we can buy him years.