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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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