How Could You? A shelter dog's reality - MUST READ AND PASS ON!

May 7, 2009

A good friend sent this to me today - perfect timing to remind and inspire everyone to come to the National Day Against Petland on Saturday, May 9th from 12-2 p.m. in Plano and 2:30 - 4:00 in Dallas and Frisco. Bring friends and dogs if you can!

You may have read this before, but it's well worth reading again.

HOW COULD YOU:

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 WillisWhen 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 oflove." 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 rubbedmy 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 makesure 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. This IS the reality of dogs given up to shelters!

May 9, 2009

Hello,

Could you please tell me where you would find the information on the rally in

Frisco tomorrow?

Thank you!

, Shannon Morgan <fortheanmls wrote:

>

> A good friend sent this to me today - perfect timing to remind and inspire

everyone to come to the National Day Against Petland on Saturday, May 9th from

12-2 p.m. in Plano and 2:30 - 4:00 in Dallas and Frisco. Bring friends and

dogs if you can!

>

> You may have read this before, but it's well worth reading again.

>

> HOW COULD YOU:

>

> 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

>

> 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.

>

> This IS the reality of dogs given up to shelters!

>

May 9, 2009

Hi Sara,

Thanks for asking! The Frisco location will be from 2:30 - 4:00 at 2930 Preston Rd # 810, on the east side. The funeral theme will be there also. There is an earlier one just a few miles south in Plano from 12:00 - 2:00 with the funeral theme, too if you wants to come earlier. Wear black if you can; we have veils and white crosses and lots of props - it''ll look really, really somber. Petland has NO IDEA what is about to happen today other than it's another National Day Against Petland, LOl!

Hope to see you there; if you need any help ask for me, Shannon or Susan (at the Frisco location as I may not stay the whole time after already doing Plano).

Also, it has a chance of light showers, so bring a black umbrella just in case if you can. What could be more fitting at a funeral?

Take care

--- On Fri, 5/8/09, sara.murray2 <sara.murray2 wrote:

sara.murray2 <sara.murray2 Re: How Could You? A shelter dog's reality - MUST READ AND PASS ON! Date: Friday, May 8, 2009, 10:42 PM

Hello,Could you please tell me where you would find the information on the rally in Frisco tomorrow?Thank you!, Shannon Morgan <fortheanmls@ ...> wrote:>> A good friend sent this to me today - perfect timing to remind and inspire everyone to come to the National Day Against Petland on Saturday, May 9th from 12-2 p.m. in Plano and 2:30 - 4:00 in Dallas and Frisco. Bring friends and dogs if you can!> > You may have read this before, but it's well worth reading again.> > HOW COULD YOU:>

> 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> > 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. > > This IS the reality of dogs given up to shelters!> > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > >