How could you?(a dogs story)
01-11-2005, 02:14 PM
#1
Thread Starter
Join Date: Dec 2004
Location:
Posts: 61
How could you?(a dogs story)
I copied this from the Michigan Sportsman Forum.
Its a tear jerker
How Could You?
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Copied from the Brittany-L listserver:
Please distribute this to everyone you know who loves dogs.
Love your dogs always...
HOW COULD YOU?
A man in Grand Rapids, Michigan incredibly took out a US $7,000 full page ad
in the paper to present the HOW COULD YOU?
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 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
__________________
(of a dog) He will kiss the hand that has no food to offer; he will lick the wounds and sores that come from encounters with the roughness of the world....When all other friends desert, he remains.
-George C. Vest
Its a tear jerker
How Could You?
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Copied from the Brittany-L listserver:
Please distribute this to everyone you know who loves dogs.
Love your dogs always...
HOW COULD YOU?
A man in Grand Rapids, Michigan incredibly took out a US $7,000 full page ad
in the paper to present the HOW COULD YOU?
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 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
__________________
(of a dog) He will kiss the hand that has no food to offer; he will lick the wounds and sores that come from encounters with the roughness of the world....When all other friends desert, he remains.
-George C. Vest
01-19-2005, 09:50 AM
#5
Join Date: Mar 2004
Location: Southeastern Ohio
Posts: 165
RE: How could you?(a dogs story)
Tear jerker indead! Many people don't think about what happens to older animals when they take them to the shelter. Some shelter are so low on space that any dog is only there for a short time. Thanks for the great story.
02-03-2005, 10:58 AM
#8
Typical Buck
Join Date: Nov 2003
Location: Georgia
Posts: 882
RE: How could you?(a dogs story)
Rachswid,
After reading the article you posted, I had to get this off my refrigerator and post it.
This may have been a coincidence, but it was in our local newspaper right after I had to have my pointer, Bell, put down because of cancer. I'll condense it some.
"MAYBE THIS EXPLAINS WHY SOME GOOD PEOPLE LEAVE EARTH SO SOON."
This vet that wrote the article said he had to go to a friends home to put down a dog of a friend so that they wouldn't have to go thru it at his office. The couple had a four year old son, Shane, and the dogs name was Belker. When he got to the home he (Vet) felt the familiar catch in his throat as Belker's family surrounded him. Shane seemed so calm, petting the old dog for the last time, that I wondered if he understood what was going on.
Within a few minutes, Belker slipped peacefully away. The little boy seemed to accept Belker's transition without any difficulty or confusion. We sat together for awhile after Belker's death, wondering aloud about the sad fact that animals lives are shorter than human lives. Shane, who had been listening quietly, piped up, "I know why." Startled, we all turned to him. What came out of his mouth next stunned me-I'd never heard a more comforting explanation.
He said, "Everybody is born so that they can learn how to live a good life-like loving everybody and being nice, right?" The four year old continued, "Well, animals already know how to do that, so they don't have to stay as long."
I'm 56 now, and every time I read this article on my frig. and articles like you posted, it breaks my heart to think anyone would mistreat a dog or any animal.
I sit here right now with three dogs laying near my feet and "I SWEAR, I THINK MORE OF THESE DOGS THAN MOST PEOPLE I KNOW."
Thanks for the Post.
dog1
After reading the article you posted, I had to get this off my refrigerator and post it.
This may have been a coincidence, but it was in our local newspaper right after I had to have my pointer, Bell, put down because of cancer. I'll condense it some.
"MAYBE THIS EXPLAINS WHY SOME GOOD PEOPLE LEAVE EARTH SO SOON."
This vet that wrote the article said he had to go to a friends home to put down a dog of a friend so that they wouldn't have to go thru it at his office. The couple had a four year old son, Shane, and the dogs name was Belker. When he got to the home he (Vet) felt the familiar catch in his throat as Belker's family surrounded him. Shane seemed so calm, petting the old dog for the last time, that I wondered if he understood what was going on.
Within a few minutes, Belker slipped peacefully away. The little boy seemed to accept Belker's transition without any difficulty or confusion. We sat together for awhile after Belker's death, wondering aloud about the sad fact that animals lives are shorter than human lives. Shane, who had been listening quietly, piped up, "I know why." Startled, we all turned to him. What came out of his mouth next stunned me-I'd never heard a more comforting explanation.
He said, "Everybody is born so that they can learn how to live a good life-like loving everybody and being nice, right?" The four year old continued, "Well, animals already know how to do that, so they don't have to stay as long."
I'm 56 now, and every time I read this article on my frig. and articles like you posted, it breaks my heart to think anyone would mistreat a dog or any animal.
I sit here right now with three dogs laying near my feet and "I SWEAR, I THINK MORE OF THESE DOGS THAN MOST PEOPLE I KNOW."
Thanks for the Post.
dog1
02-03-2005, 11:24 AM
#9
Typical Buck
Join Date: Feb 2003
Location: golden co
Posts: 852
RE: How could you?(a dogs story)
Thanks, Jim Willis for placing that ad. Maybe someone will read it and it will prevent from happening to another "disposable pet". Sad truth that daily repeats it'self across the country.
02-03-2005, 11:40 AM
#10
Thread Starter
Join Date: Dec 2004
Location:
Posts: 61
RE: How could you?(a dogs story)
Dog1
Thanks for sharing that story!
The things that can come out of childrens mouths are so honest and pure its like they are gods little messengers.
Except for the rest of the time when they drive you totally crazy
Thanks for sharing that story!
The things that can come out of childrens mouths are so honest and pure its like they are gods little messengers.
Except for the rest of the time when they drive you totally crazy