I saw this story on another group I'm on. Let me warn you that it is about the importance of spay/neutering and of animal rescue. Very sad, but true. Make sure you have a Kleenex handy. If you're not up for this, stop reading now. ~Lacey
> > > My Name Is Sam > > After I was discharged from the Navy, Jim and I moved back to Detroit > to use our GI bill benefits to get some schooling. Jim was going for a > degree in Electronics and I, after much debating, decided to get mine > in Computer Science. > > One of the classes that was a requirement was Speech. Like many > people, I had no fondness for getting up in front of people for any > reason, let alone to be the center of attention as I stuttered my way > through some unfamiliar subject. But I couldn't get out of the > requirement, and so I found myself in my last semester before > graduation with Speech as one of my classes. > > On the first day of class our professor explained to us that he was > going to leave the subject matter of our talks up to us, but he was > going to provide the motivation of the speech. We would be responsible > for six speeches, each with a different motivation. For instance, our > first speech's purpose was to inform. He advised us to pick subjects > that we were interested in and knowledgeable about. I decided to > center my six speeches around animals, especially dogs. > > For my first speech to inform, I talked about the equestrian art of > dressage. For my speech to demonstrate, I brought my German Shepherd, > Bodger, to class and demonstrated obedience commands. Finally the > semester was almost over and I had but one more speech to give. This > speech was to take the place of a written final exam and was to count > for fifty percent of our grade. The speeches motivation was to > persuade. After agonizing over a subject matter, and keeping with my > animal theme, I decided on the topic of spaying and neutering pets. My > goal was to try to persuade my classmates to neuter their pets, so I > started researching the topic. There was plenty of material, articles > that told of the millions of dogs and cats that were euthanized every > year; of supposedly beloved pets that were turned in to various animal > control facilities for the lamest of reasons, or worse, dropped off > far from home, bewildered and scared. Death was usually a blessing. > The final speech was looming closer, but I felt well prepared. My > notes were full of facts and statistics that I felt sure would > motivate even the most naive of pet owners to succumb to my plea. > > A couple of days before our speeches were due, I had the bright idea > of going to the local branch of the Humane Society and borrowing a > puppy to use as a sort of a visual aid. I called the Humane Society > and explained what I wanted. They were very happy to accommodate me. I > made arrangements to pick up a puppy the day before my speech. The day > before my speech, I went to pick up the puppy. I was feeling very > confident. I could quote all the statistics and numbers without ever > looking at my notes. The puppy, I felt, would add the final emotional > touch. When I arrived at the Humane Society I was met by a young guy > named Ron. He explained that he was the public relations person for > the Humane Society. He was very excited about my speech and asked if I > would like a tour of the facilities before I picked up the puppy. I > enthusiastically agreed. We started out in the reception area, which > was the general public's initial encounter with the Humane Society. > The lobby was full, mostly with people dropping off various animals > that they no longer wanted Ron explained to me that this branch of the > Humane Society took in about fifty animals a day and adopted out > twenty. > > As we stood there I heard snatches of conversation: "I can't keep him, > he digs holes in my garden." "They are such cute puppies, I know you > will have no trouble finding homes for them." "She is wild, I can't > control her." I heard one of Humane Society's volunteer explain to the > lady with the litter of puppies that the Society was filled with > puppies and that these puppies, being black, would immediately be put > to sleep. Black puppies, she explained, had little chance of being > adopted. The woman who brought the puppies in just shrugged, "I can't > help it," she whined. "They are getting too big. I don't have room for > them." > > We left the reception area. Ron led me into the staging area where all > the incoming animals were evaluated for adoptability. Over half never > even made it to the adoption center. There were just too many. Not > only were people bringing in their own animals, but strays were also > dropped off. By law the Humane Society had to hold a stray for three > days. If the animal was not claimed by then, it was euthanized, since > there was no background information on the animal. There were already > too many animals that had a known history eagerly provided by their > soon to be ex-owners. As we went through the different areas, I felt > more and more depressed. No amount of statistics, could take the place > of seeing the reality of what this throw-away attitude did to the > living, breathing animal. It was over overwhelming. > > Finally Ron stopped in front of a closed door. "That's it," he said, > "except for this." I read the sign on the door. "Euthanization Area." > "Do you want to see one?" he asked. > > Before I could decline, he interjected, "You really should. You can't > tell the whole story unless you experience the end." I reluctantly > agreed. "Good." He said " I already cleared it and Peggy is expecting > you." He knocked firmly on the door. It was opened immediately by a > middle aged woman in a white lab coat. "Here's the girl I was telling > you about," Ron explained. Peggy looked me over. "Well I'll leave you > here with Peggy and meet you in the reception area in about fifteen > minutes. I'll have the puppy ready." With that Ron departed, leaving > me standing in front of the stern-looking Peggy. > > Peggy motioned me in. As I walked into the room, I gave an audible > gasp. The room was small and spartan. There were a couple of cages on > the wall and a cabinet with syringes and vials of a clear liquid. In > the middle of the room was an examining table with a rubber mat on > top. There were two doors other than the one I had entered. Both were > closed. One said to incinerator room, and the other had no sign, but I > could hear various animals noises coming from behind the closed door. > In the back of the room, near the door that was marked incinerator > were the objects that caused my distress: two wheelbarrows, filled > with the bodies of dead kittens and puppies. I stared in horror. > Nothing had prepared me for this. I felt my legs grow weak and my > breathing become rapid and shallow. I wanted to run from that room, > screaming. > > Peggy seemed not to notice my state of shock. She started talking > about the euthanization process, but I wasn't hearing her. I could not > tear my gaze away from the wheelbarrows and those dozens of pathetic > little bodies. Finally, Peggy seemed to notice that I was not paying > attention to her. "Are you listening?" she asked irritably. "I'm only > going to go through this once." I tore my gaze from the back of the > room and looked at her. I opened my mouth to say something, but > nothing would come out, so I nodded. She told me that behind the > unmarked door were the animals that were scheduled for euthanasia that > day. She picked up a chart that was hanging from the wall. "One fifty > three is next," she said as she looked at the chart. "I'll go get > him." She laid down the chart on the examining table and started for > the unmarked door. Before she got to the door she stopped and turned > around. "You aren't going to get hysterical, are you?" she asked, > "Because that will only upset the animals." I shook my head. I had not > said a word since I walked into that room. I still felt unsure if I > would be able to without breaking down into tears. > > As Peggy opened the unmarked door I peered into the room beyond. It > was a small room, but the walls were lined and stacked with cages. It > looked like they were all occupied. Peggy opened the door of one of > the lower cages and removed the occupant. From what I could see it > looked like a medium-sized dog. She attached a leash and ushered the > dog into the room in which I stood. > > As Peggy brought the dog into the room I could see that the dog was no > more than a puppy, maybe five or six months old. The pup looked to be > across between a Lab and a German shepherd. He was mostly black, with > a small amount of tan above his eyes and on his feet. He was very > excited and bouncing up and down, trying to sniff everything in this > new environment. Peggy lifted the pup onto the table. She had a card > in her hand, which she laid on the table next to me. I read the card. > It said that number one fifty three was a mixed Shepherd, six months > old. He was surrendered two days ago by a family. Reason of surrender > was given as "jumps on children." At the bottom was a note that said > "Name: Sam." > > Peggy was quick and efficient, from lots of practice, I guessed. She > laid one fifty three down on his side and tied a rubber tourniquet > around his front leg. She turned to fill the syringe from the vial of > clear liquid. All this time I was standing at the head of the table. I > could see the moment that one fifty three went from a curious puppy to > a terrified puppy. He did not like being held down and he started to > struggle. > > It was then that I finally found my voice. I bent over the struggling > puppy and whispered "Sam. Your name is Sam." At the sound of his name > Sam quit struggling. He wagged his tail tentatively and his soft pink > tongue darted out and licked my hand. And that is how he spent his > last moment. I watched his eyes fade from hopefulness to nothingness. > It was over very quickly. I had never even seen Peggy give the lethal > shot. The tears could not be contained any longer. I kept my head down > so as not to embarrass myself in front of the stoic Peggy. My tears > fell onto the still body on the table. > > "Now you know," Peggy said softly. Then she turned away. "Ron will be > waiting for you." I left the room. Although it seemed like it had been > hours, only fifteen minutes had gone by since Ron had left me at the > door. I made my way back to the reception area. True to his word, Ron > had the puppy all ready to go. > > After giving me some instructions about what to feed the puppy, he > handed the carrying cage over to me and wished me good luck on my > speech. > > That night I went home and spent many hours playing with the orphan > puppy. I went to bed that night but I could not sleep. After a while I > got up and looked at my speech notes with their numbers and > statistics. Without a second thought, I tore them up and threw them > away. I went back to bed. Sometime during the night I finally fell > asleep. The next morning I arrived at my Speech class with Puppy Doe. > When my turn came to give my speech. I walked up to the front the > class with the puppy in my arms. I took a deep breath, and I told the > class about the life and death of Sam. When I finished my speech I > became aware that I was crying. I apologized to the class and took my > seat. After class the teacher handed out a critique with our grades. I > got an "A." His comments said "Very moving and persuasive." Two days > later, on the last day of class, one of my classmates came up to me. > She was an older lady that I had never spoken to in class. She stopped > me on our way out of the class room. "I want you to know that I > adopted the puppy you brought to class," she said. "His name is Sam." > > Author Unknown > > ** after you finish crying, HUG your pets , take them for a walk > ,,,and when you feel a little better,, do ANYTHING that you can to > help these poor victums of humanity. > they really need US. -- EDUCATE - pass it around.. PLEASE. ------------------------ Yahoo! Groups Sponsor --------------------~--> Get fast access to your favorite Yahoo! Groups. Make Yahoo! your home page http://us.click.yahoo.com/dpRU5A/wUILAA/yQLSAA/MJOolB/TM --------------------------------------------------------------------~-> " Lets talk about our wonderful little friends! Join today! " Yahoo! Groups Links <*> To visit your group on the web, go to: http://groups.yahoo.com/group/Chihuahuas/ <*> To unsubscribe from this group, send an email to: [EMAIL PROTECTED] <*> Your use of Yahoo! Groups is subject to: http://docs.yahoo.com/info/terms/
