Warning - This Will Make You Cry

This was an email from a friend. It brought tears to my eyes:

By Jim Willis, 2001 - How Could You?

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 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 and
Canadian animal
shelters. Anyone is welcome to distribute the essay for a non-
commercial
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 to do the
same.

Piel

I hate that poem because it's so sad LOL

I got it sent to me right after I got my puppy... how people can treat dogs/puppies/animals like that I just don't know

I hate this poem, too, but it's a sad reality for many pets. I'm a cat person myself (sorry dog lovers, but I'm also realistic about how much attention a dog needs).
Every animal needs a home. If I could, I'd take in every stray on the planet, but realistically that's not possible. What is possible is for me to spay/neuter my pets, all of which come from the Humane Society if the first place, promise to be with them forever (even if that means I didn't get that nice apartment once), and love them as much as I can and take care of them and their health.
As Oprah says, they really are my little "fur children" and to treat them as a lesser member of my family is an affront to everything I learned about treating other living beings on the planet kindly and decently.

That was a really sad poem. In a way, it kinda
reminds me of our two babies.
One of the one's we adopted was from a high kill
shelter. She was so small, they had mistaken her for a 7 m/o puppy. Now she definitely looks her age (5 years).
I'll never understand why people leave their "family members"
at high kill places. It's just plain evil. How hard could it
be to take them to a non kill facility or find them a loving home.

---Hermione

I made a copy and sent it anonymously to my ex-sister-in-law. She took her two dogs, ages 5 and 8, to the shelter because her daughter was too busy to take care of them. She didn't even bother to try to find them another home. Several family members found out about this a few days later and found a home for the younger one and my other sister-in-law was going to take the older one. Well, she went down to the pound but guess what? It was too late. They were put down as soon as they were brought in because they were considered unadoptable because of their ages!

This same sister-in-law also gave away her first born child (out of wedlock). Easy come, easy go.

Yes, this is very sad. Our pets know when we love them and they come to expect it and since we who have minds to reason should always remember to treat them the right way and not neglect their needs or their companionship. My dog and cat and hampster all know that they are loved and valued and so they are comfortable to let their precious personalities show and oh, how they have enriched all our lives. I love animals so much, I would hate to live here in this world without them and yes, these animals feel how much we love them and also those that don't love them.

Wow. I didn't know what this would be about based on the title, and I am not a generally tearful person, but this is bring tears to my eyes.

We had a lot of pets when I was growing up, but other than one dog who finally had to be put down at age 16, and a dog my mom had after all the kids were gone, all of the other pets "disappeared" when things got rough: A puppy my mom got when I was 6 to make my dad mad lasted less than a month with us, 2 terriers my mom had for several years were gone when I got home from school one day in the 7th grade (I was terrified for a month that my cats would disappear too). When I asked where the dogs were, my mom just said that they had become too much of a hassle and she took them to a shelter. I don't think she would have said anything if I hadn't asked. In the 9th grade my mom sold our house and moved us into an apartment where no pets were allowed, so I did have to give my cats up - at least I knew they went to a farm, but I will never forget the looks on their faces as the car drove away with them.

My mom is not a terrible person, and the animals were all treated well while we had them, but her lack of connection to animals is really distressing to me and my sister. I got a puppy last year, while I was looking for a condo to buy, knowing that it would make my search harder. My mom would take every opportunity to tell me I would have to choose between having a roof over my head and having a dog (this is an exact quote). I explained to her that there are many people in my city with dogs, and a large percentage of them do in fact have roofs over their heads.

My dog (and my cat) is/are so much a part of me. It is just not possible that I would become involved with someone who doesn't like animals, and my animals in particular.

guinevere