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Join Date: Dec 2006
Posts: 77
| How Could You
Here is something someone just posted in a Yahoo forum I am on. I am not sure if this has ever been passed around but it should be
HOW COULD YOU?
By Jim Willis, 2001
A man in Grand Rapids, Michigan took out a $7000 full page ad in
the paper to present the following essay to the people of his community:
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 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 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.
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.
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 |
