OttawaChris
01-29-03, 02:02 PM
Dont say I didnt warn you! This is an email I got from my sister... thought this would be a good place to post it for yuz seeing as so many herps get the same sort of treatment too.
*************************
HOW COULD YOU?
By Jim Willis, 2001
When I was a puppy, I entertained you with my antics and made you laugh.
You called me your child, and despite a number of chewed shoes and a
couple f murdered throw pillows, I became your best friend.Whenever I
was
bad you'd shake your finger at me and ask "How could you?"- but then
you'd
relent and roll me over for a bellyrub.
My housebreaking took a little longer than expected, because you were
terribly busy, but we worked on that together. I remember those nights
of nuzzling you in bed and listening to your confidences and secret
dreams, and I believed that life could not be any more perfect. We went
for
long walks and runs in the park, car rides, stops for ice cream (I only
got the cone because "ice cream is bad for dogs" you said), and I took
long naps in the sun waiting for you to come home at the end of the day.
Gradually, you began spending more time at work and on your career, and
more time searching for a human mate. I waited for you patiently,
comforted you through heartbreaks and disappointments, never chided you
about bad decisions, and romped with glee at your homecomings, and when
you fell in love. She, now your wife, is not a "dog person" -- still I
welcomed her into our home, tried to show her affection, and obeyed her.
I was happy because you were happy. Then the human babies came along and
I shared your excitement. I was fascinated by their pinkness, how they
smelled, and I wanted to mother them, too. Only she and you worried that
I might hurt them, and I spent most of my time banished to another room,
or a dog crate. Oh, how I wanted to love them, but I became a "prisoner
of love." As they began to grow, I became their friend. They clung to my
fur and pulled themselves up on wobbly legs, poked fingers in my eyes,
investigated my ears, and gave me kisses on my nose. I loved everything
about them and their touch--because your touch was now so
infrequent--and I would've defended them with my life if need be. I
would sneak into their beds and listen to their worries and secret
dreams, and together we waited for the sound of your car in the
driveway.
There had been a time, when others asked you if you had a dog, that you
produced a photo of me from your wallet and told them stories about me.
These past few years, you just answered "yes" and changed the subject. I
had gone from being "your dog" to "just a dog," and you resented every
expenditure on my behalf.
Now, you have a new career opportunity in another city, and you and they
will be moving to an apartment that does not allow pets. You've made the
right decision for your "family," but there was a time when I was your
only family. I was excited about the car ride until we arrived at the
animal
shelter. It smelled of dogs and cats, of fear, of hopelessness. You
filled out the paperwork and said "I know you will find a good home for
her." he shrugged and gave you a pained look. They understand the
realities facing a middle-aged dog, even one with "papers." You had to
pry your son's
fingers loose from my collar as he screamed "No, Daddy! Please don't let
them take my dog!" And I worried for him, and what lessons you had just
taught him about friendship and loyalty, about love and responsibility,
and about respect for all life.
You gave me a good-bye pat on the head, avoided my eyes, and politely
took take my collar and leash with you. You had a deadline to meet and
now I have one, too.After you left, the two nice ladies said you
probably knew about your upcoming move months ago and made no attempt to
find me another good home. They shook their heads and asked "How could
you?"
They are as attentive to us here in the shelter as their busy schedules
allow. They feed us, of course, but I lost my appetite days ago.
At first, whenever anyone passed my pen, I rushed to the front, hoping
it was you that you had changed your mind-that this was all a bad
dream...or I hoped it would at least be someone who cared, anyone who
might save me. When I realized I could not compete with the frolicking
for attention of happy puppies, oblivious to their own fate, I retreated
to a far corner and waited. I heard her footsteps as she came for me at
the end of the day, and I padded along the aisle after her to a separate
room. A blissfully quiet room. She placed me on the table and rubbed my
ears, and told me not to worry. My heart pounded in anticipation of what
was to come, but there was also a sense of relief. The prisoner of love
had run out of days.
As is my nature, I was more concerned about her. The burden which she
bears weighs heavily on her, and I know that, the same way I knew your
every mood. She gently placed a tourniquet around my foreleg as a tear
ran down her cheek. I licked her hand in the same way I used to comfort
you so
many years ago. She expertly slid the hypodermic needle into my vein. As
I felt the sting and the cool liquid coursing through my body, I lay
down sleepily looked into her kind eyes and murmured "How could you?"
Perhaps because she understood my dogspeak, she said "I'm so sorry." She
hugged me, and hurriedly explained it was her job to make sure I went to
a better place, where I wouldn't be ignored or abused or abandoned, or
have to fend for myself--a place of love and light so very different
from this earthly place.
And with my last bit of energy, I tried to convey to her with a thump of
my tail that my "How could you?" was not directed at her. It was
directed at you, My Beloved Master, I was thinking of you. I will think
of you and wait for you forever. May everyone in your life continue to
show you so much loyalty.
-----------------
Note from the Author:
If "How Could You?" brought tears to your eyes as you read it, as it did
to mine as I wrote it, it is because it is the composite story of the
millions of formerly "owned" pets who die each year in American &
Canadian animal shelters.
Anyone is welcome to distribute the essay for a noncommercial purpose,
as long as it is properly attributed with the copyright notice.
Please use it to help educate, on your websites, in newsletters, on
animal shelter and vet office bulletin boards. Tell the public that the
decision to add a pet to the family is an important one for life, that
animals deserve our love and sensible care, that finding another
appropriate home for your
animal is your responsibility and any local humane society or animal
welfare league can offer you good advice, and that all life is precious.
Please do your part to stop the killing, and encourage all spay and
neuter campaigns in order to prevent unwanted animals.
Jim Willis
Please pass this on to everyone, not to hurt them or make them sad, but
it could save maybe, even one unwanted pet.>
Remember...They love UNCONDITIONALLY, if you give them LOVE
*************************
HOW COULD YOU?
By Jim Willis, 2001
When I was a puppy, I entertained you with my antics and made you laugh.
You called me your child, and despite a number of chewed shoes and a
couple f murdered throw pillows, I became your best friend.Whenever I
was
bad you'd shake your finger at me and ask "How could you?"- but then
you'd
relent and roll me over for a bellyrub.
My housebreaking took a little longer than expected, because you were
terribly busy, but we worked on that together. I remember those nights
of nuzzling you in bed and listening to your confidences and secret
dreams, and I believed that life could not be any more perfect. We went
for
long walks and runs in the park, car rides, stops for ice cream (I only
got the cone because "ice cream is bad for dogs" you said), and I took
long naps in the sun waiting for you to come home at the end of the day.
Gradually, you began spending more time at work and on your career, and
more time searching for a human mate. I waited for you patiently,
comforted you through heartbreaks and disappointments, never chided you
about bad decisions, and romped with glee at your homecomings, and when
you fell in love. She, now your wife, is not a "dog person" -- still I
welcomed her into our home, tried to show her affection, and obeyed her.
I was happy because you were happy. Then the human babies came along and
I shared your excitement. I was fascinated by their pinkness, how they
smelled, and I wanted to mother them, too. Only she and you worried that
I might hurt them, and I spent most of my time banished to another room,
or a dog crate. Oh, how I wanted to love them, but I became a "prisoner
of love." As they began to grow, I became their friend. They clung to my
fur and pulled themselves up on wobbly legs, poked fingers in my eyes,
investigated my ears, and gave me kisses on my nose. I loved everything
about them and their touch--because your touch was now so
infrequent--and I would've defended them with my life if need be. I
would sneak into their beds and listen to their worries and secret
dreams, and together we waited for the sound of your car in the
driveway.
There had been a time, when others asked you if you had a dog, that you
produced a photo of me from your wallet and told them stories about me.
These past few years, you just answered "yes" and changed the subject. I
had gone from being "your dog" to "just a dog," and you resented every
expenditure on my behalf.
Now, you have a new career opportunity in another city, and you and they
will be moving to an apartment that does not allow pets. You've made the
right decision for your "family," but there was a time when I was your
only family. I was excited about the car ride until we arrived at the
animal
shelter. It smelled of dogs and cats, of fear, of hopelessness. You
filled out the paperwork and said "I know you will find a good home for
her." he shrugged and gave you a pained look. They understand the
realities facing a middle-aged dog, even one with "papers." You had to
pry your son's
fingers loose from my collar as he screamed "No, Daddy! Please don't let
them take my dog!" And I worried for him, and what lessons you had just
taught him about friendship and loyalty, about love and responsibility,
and about respect for all life.
You gave me a good-bye pat on the head, avoided my eyes, and politely
took take my collar and leash with you. You had a deadline to meet and
now I have one, too.After you left, the two nice ladies said you
probably knew about your upcoming move months ago and made no attempt to
find me another good home. They shook their heads and asked "How could
you?"
They are as attentive to us here in the shelter as their busy schedules
allow. They feed us, of course, but I lost my appetite days ago.
At first, whenever anyone passed my pen, I rushed to the front, hoping
it was you that you had changed your mind-that this was all a bad
dream...or I hoped it would at least be someone who cared, anyone who
might save me. When I realized I could not compete with the frolicking
for attention of happy puppies, oblivious to their own fate, I retreated
to a far corner and waited. I heard her footsteps as she came for me at
the end of the day, and I padded along the aisle after her to a separate
room. A blissfully quiet room. She placed me on the table and rubbed my
ears, and told me not to worry. My heart pounded in anticipation of what
was to come, but there was also a sense of relief. The prisoner of love
had run out of days.
As is my nature, I was more concerned about her. The burden which she
bears weighs heavily on her, and I know that, the same way I knew your
every mood. She gently placed a tourniquet around my foreleg as a tear
ran down her cheek. I licked her hand in the same way I used to comfort
you so
many years ago. She expertly slid the hypodermic needle into my vein. As
I felt the sting and the cool liquid coursing through my body, I lay
down sleepily looked into her kind eyes and murmured "How could you?"
Perhaps because she understood my dogspeak, she said "I'm so sorry." She
hugged me, and hurriedly explained it was her job to make sure I went to
a better place, where I wouldn't be ignored or abused or abandoned, or
have to fend for myself--a place of love and light so very different
from this earthly place.
And with my last bit of energy, I tried to convey to her with a thump of
my tail that my "How could you?" was not directed at her. It was
directed at you, My Beloved Master, I was thinking of you. I will think
of you and wait for you forever. May everyone in your life continue to
show you so much loyalty.
-----------------
Note from the Author:
If "How Could You?" brought tears to your eyes as you read it, as it did
to mine as I wrote it, it is because it is the composite story of the
millions of formerly "owned" pets who die each year in American &
Canadian animal shelters.
Anyone is welcome to distribute the essay for a noncommercial purpose,
as long as it is properly attributed with the copyright notice.
Please use it to help educate, on your websites, in newsletters, on
animal shelter and vet office bulletin boards. Tell the public that the
decision to add a pet to the family is an important one for life, that
animals deserve our love and sensible care, that finding another
appropriate home for your
animal is your responsibility and any local humane society or animal
welfare league can offer you good advice, and that all life is precious.
Please do your part to stop the killing, and encourage all spay and
neuter campaigns in order to prevent unwanted animals.
Jim Willis
Please pass this on to everyone, not to hurt them or make them sad, but
it could save maybe, even one unwanted pet.>
Remember...They love UNCONDITIONALLY, if you give them LOVE