Rescue a Shelter Pet TODAY!!!
A man in Grand Rapids , 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.
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.