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       #Post#: 631--------------------------------------------------
       "How Could You? " Why you should Adopt 
       By: Tetra4CClyPeatus Date: January 29, 2013, 7:10 am
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       How Could You? - Tuesday, April 15, 2008 4:57 PM
       How Could You?
       By Jim Willis
       
       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 housetraining 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, 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, especially 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. 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 or cat,
       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 goodbye 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, 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. 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 meant for 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.
       For more about Jim Willis and his Book "Pieces Of My Heart"
       Visit:
  HTML http://www.crean.com/jimwillis/
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