Dear Loved One, When I was a puppy, I entertained you with my antics and made you laugh...You called me your child, and despite a couple of chewed shoes and 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 at that together. I remember those nights of nuzzling you in bed and listening to your confidences and dreams, and I believed that life could not be any more perfect. We went for long walks and runs in the park, car rides, and 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 loved 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 rooms 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 people asked you if you had a dog, that you produced a picture 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 have 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, and helplessness. 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 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 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, 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 said, "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, when anyone passed my pen, I rushed to the front, hoping that it was you-that you had changed your mind-that this was all a bad dream...or I hoped that it would at least be someone who cared, anyone who could save me. When I realized I couldn't compete with the happy frolicking of puppies, oblivious to their own fate, I retreated to a far corner and waited. I heard her footsteps come for me at the end of the day and I padded down the aisle with her to a separate room. A blissfully quiet room. She placed me on a 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. Gently, she placed a tournaquet around my foreleg, as a tear rolled down her cheek. I licked her hand the same way I used to comfort you many years ago. Expertly, she 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 am so sorry." , hugged me and explained it was her job to make sure I went to a better place where I wouldn't be abandoned, abused or ignored-a place of love n light. With my last ounce of energy, I tried to convey 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..... This was a $7000 full page ad in Grand Rapids, Mich. ...written by Jim Willis ***thx lorri for this page idea |
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