Here's a tear jerker to start the day with - but sure makes you think!
Peggy
Ontario, Canada
----- Original Message -----
From: "B.Hagel" <[EMAIL PROTECTED]>
To: <[EMAIL PROTECTED]>
Sent: Tuesday, July 31, 2001 1:54 AM
Subject: [BARFcanada] OT...and worth the read
> PLEASE CIRCULATE
>
> A man in Grand Rapids, Michigan took out a full page ad in the paper to
> present the following essay to the people of the 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 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 home comings, 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 have 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 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 you, My Beloved Master, I was thinking of. I will think of you and
> wait
> for you forever. May everyone in your life continue to show you so much
>
> loyalty.
> The End
> ______________________
> 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 and
> 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 adoption>>
>
>
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