Meditations on Amateur Blood Collection

Madison Gohlke, Auburn University

A growling, griping, flopping mess

The syringe flies through the air

I wipe my brow and softly cuss

Suspiciously, you glare

I gently coax and offer treats

You eye me warily

I slide my arm under your neck

You spaz and try to flee

My longsuffering friend who’s here to help

Politely judges me

I say we do this all the time

(as if we live Fear-Free)

Don’t know if it’s the alcohol wipe

Or the poke that incites your rage

Or even just to be restrained

But you refuse to be assuaged

We take a break, then try again

Your veins roll like a log

You yelp when she pokes the needle in

I’m sorry, you dumb dog

If you’d hold still, then we’d be done

And I wish it didn’t hurt

But my dear, you don’t speak English yet

So control I must exert

I consider: is it worth all this? 

It’s just some free bloodwork

But she pets your head, you wag your tail

And I love you, you big jerk

So we’ll find those veins, we’ll draw this blood

And make sure you’re okay

I hope you don’t remember this

Or how upset you were today

And I promise, in the future, dear,

If you’ll cooperate this time

We won’t do this for another year

And maybe I’ll switch to bovine….