Drop it

I’m your greedy, badly trained lab,
sniffing at something rotten.

We lock eyes.
I grab a huge mouthful.

You desperately yell:
“Drop it! It’s bad for you!”
sprinting towards me across the yard.

You pry at my jaw.
I grin
and chew faster.

Down it goes.

Later my tummy starts to hurt.
Oh no, consequences.
I whine about the pain,
like it’s a surprise.
You sit beside me,
petting my head
while I curl up like I’ve finally learned something.

I haven’t.

Oh look!
Another thing I shouldn’t chew.

What comes first?
Do I choke,
or do you get tired of the vet bills
and put me down?