- 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 housetraining 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, 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, especially their touch - because your touch
was now so infrequent - and I would have defended them with my life if
need be.
-
- I would sneak into their beds and listen
to their worries and secret dreams. 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 or cat, 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 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 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, 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.
-
- 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 meant for her. It was you, My Beloved Master, I was thinking of.
I will think of you and wait for you forever.
-
- May everyone in your life continue to
show you so much loyalty.
-
- http://www.indybay.org/news/2006/06/1827219.php
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