Fire Engine Red

A poem by Beth Innis, DVM, CVA, CCRT, CVCHM, CVSMT

Those gums fire engines red and so painful

Objecting to her very own teeth

The cat herself patiently sitting with them

Still figuring this life with this kind new woman

Was better than the previous hoarding situation

Her long legs and her inbred little face patiently waiting

In case the other shoe was about to drop

What must it be like to be shuttled in a car to an undisclosed location

In a little box, where you just spit up on the soft towel

That your new mom used to pad the scary day

To be put in a cage

Hovered over by strange ladies

With soft, playful voices

Touching your body gently

Administering pokes that make you feel drowsy

It seems like moments later

You awake with your tongue and gums asleep

Unable to feel yet the lack of teeth in your mouth

Those strange ladies with soft, playful voices still there

One holds you close to her when you can’t quite get your feet under yourself

They are calm, so you are calm

You hear them rustle around as they usher in and out other animals

They smell like they have a variety of needs

Finally it is your turn

You hear your new mom’s gentle voice, taking in all the information about your care

You hear her relief that this is over

That those teeth of yours won’t hurt you anymore

And you shuttle back to your new home

Where you can begin to heal