Fwd: HOW COULD YOU? (warning tear jerker)

[Guest guest]

" HOW COULD YOU? "

~In Memory of my dog Ringo 7-8-02~

 

A man in Grand Rapids, Michigan 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, 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 (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 tomeet 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

http://plantranch.net/animalrights.htm