Buttercup is a small toy poodle. She's got cream colored fur, and when she curls up in a ball she looks a lot like a cup of butter. We have spent our lives together. My parents gave her to my sister and I one christmas morning. My sister was seven and I was five. Buttercup is eighty-four in dog years though still manages to run faster than we do. The sweetest ball of fur you'll ever meet. She's been gaining weight over the past few years. It got to the point where she began to jog instead of run. A few months ago she stopped jogging all together and started to walk very short distances. She grew into not being able to walk at all. I had no clue what was going on inside of her neither did the vets. Later on we were told her diagnosis, cancer. I will never know why someone so loving and sweet would be challenged to death. It's a battle many people around me have fought and to see her go through it is heartbreaking. I was told we would only have a few more days with her before her body gives out.

Hey there all you greedy bastards,

Don't act like you don't know it.

And don't act like you don't know who I am.

What an insult, all these blank stares,

As if looking into a pit of filthy hams,

The way you just absolutely bathe in me,

Like water.

Which you still don't use half as much as me.

And you aren't even that good at using me!

It takes you what, about 15 years to think you've got me,

5 more to have some grasp, and 5-10 more to know for sure.

And I thought that I was simple.

But anyway,

What I came here to discuss is your heinous,

And down right diabolical abuse of me, of all things.

First of all why does my name come up so much?

When you leave someplace, as a goodbye,

When something good happens, to show happiness or lie about being happy.

When something bad happens, to let them know nothing has changed or that everything has changed.

Or just for no reason at all and it makes absolutely no sense.

If you've already said something why say it again?

Just to make sure they know how you feel,

Would you feed your friend something, make them throw it up, then shove it right back down their throat?

Don't answer that!

I know all about the..

Many ways I'm used as an excuse or reason behind an action,

The crazy things people do, and all for attraction.

Thousands of years and I still can't get a break.

I bet hate doesn't have this problem.

Second, the lies have to stop.

Whipping out the 3 words is no joke,

So mean it when it gushes out of your mouth.

I'll cease to exist if that darn imagination gets any stronger

People should mean the things they say right?

If they don't, they find a meaning themselves

And the fate of loose words are almost always grim.

All you'd be then is a silly word-monger

Makes when want to pack up and leave sometimes,

You may know it as breaking up.. or whatever you like to label it.

And a lot of times I don't come back, so watch where you prod and poke your syllables

Or you might just end up on a couch or flying south for the winter.

Lastly, get to know me a little before you toss me around.

It's like trying to ride a wild horse and you've only rode bicycles,

Now you're onto living things, something that has a life of it's own.

No no, you can't just walk up to some horse and just go off into the sunset,

It takes time,

Time, effort, pain, maybe some money, faith

Mistakes, patience, honesty, understanding, and most of all trust.

You have to let the horse know a few things,

That they can feel safe with you,

Being kind and also protection,

That you can provide anything that's needed,

Food and a place to stay sometimes,

And that you're more than just a hound,

Not hungry for blood but a companion

Through snow and sand,

To hold out your hand and always let them know..

That they're more to you than the horse you met when you got lost

In a desert in Nevada after losing too many a bet,

But someone you'd like to keep around for a bit.

That you'd clean up after even when they don't listen to anything you say,

Or whose weird noises you love to hear every 3 and a half minutes.

That puts up with your nit-picking and really old jokes

Who enjoys your faults or "beauty" just the same.

Someone that you truly care about.

And if you don't know, now you know

That's what it means to love.