A Dog Story...for all to read!
How could you...? This is an article written by a man in Grand Rapids, Michigan who incredibly took out a $7,000 full page ad in the paper to present the following essay to the people of his community. The message is clear and strong. It is highly appropriate for all of us to read & heed. 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 ( 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 so 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 Remember...They love UNCONDITIONALLY, if you give them LOVE 
 I read this so many times and it stills make me cry. I just thought I'd share it with everyone. |
|
|
| I've seen that before, it always makes me cry too.... |
| I had to fight from crying My dogs are my family. It makes me sick to read something like that. |
| How very sad. It really makes me think about everything from the dog's view. It also makes me feel even more thankful for our newest addition and I know we would never do such a thing to our little guy, just as we would never do such a thing to our own kids!! Now, I must find the tissue... |
| I have seen it several times before, but I still read every word. It does put things in a different perspective, when you look at it from the dogs point of view. I cry everytime I read it. It is a shame that we even have to have animal shelters. If everyone would just do what is right and be responsible we woudl not. That is, unfortunately, a very big if. |
| If you don't have tears after reading this you can't possibly have a heart or any compassion for anything. |
| This letter should be read by every owner before they move and decide to turn their pet (family member) into a shelter.
Several years ago, my job was transferred to another city, so I moved and had my cockapoo (Murphy) stay with my mother and I saw her at least twice a month. I did this for two long years, and was finally transferred back. I had adopted Murphy from the Humane Society at 9 months of age and she lived with me until she was fourteen and a half years old. She is forever in my heart. |
| I agree that every owner should read this, but BEFORE they get the
puppy or rescue. The way some people treat their animals is horrible. I understand that some landlords or condos won't allow pets. Some don't even allow kids. But my question is, if they didn't allow children would you move without yours and give them away? In my opinion any pet is a commitment the same way a child is. They are part of your family. You don't just give up on or give away part of your family. Shellie |
| You made me cry the first time...so I didn't read it this time! |
Don't post those things!!!! They make me cry! 
We still can't believe that so many people consider their pets disposable and get rid of them whenever they have to move or things get tough. Bless you all who take rescue dogs!! |
I agree, but I am considering sending the 8 year old upright to boarding school. At least I can send the dog to its room and she listens...  . All kidding aside, I have treated all my furkids with respect. It makes me angry to hear when people "give" their pets away because it is an inconvience to them. |
Didn't find exactly what you're looking for? Search again here:
Custom Search
|
|
| |
|
|
|
|
|