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Clean Water Technician
Name: Greg Holden
Join Date: Dec 2005
Community: Lake Geneva
Posts: 148
Classified Rating: 0% (0)Recipes: 1
Links: 0
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Re: English Pointer English Setter Rescue
A man in Grand Rapiids , Michigan incredibly took out a $7000 full page ad
in the paper to present the following essay to the people of his
community.
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 of 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 belly rub.
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 to 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." They
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 refused to 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 dog speak, 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.
A 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. Please use this 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 & neuter campaigns in
order to prevent unwanted animals.
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