1. My life is likely to last 10-15 years. Any separation from you is likely to be painful.

2. Give me time to understand what you want of me.

3. Place your trust in me. It is
crucial for my well-being.

4. Don't be angry with me for long and don't lock me up as punishment. You have your work, your friends, your
entertainment, but I have only you.

5. Talk to me. Even if I don't understand your words, I do understand your voice when speaking to me.

6. Be aware that however you treat me, I will never forget it.

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 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 the heart breaks 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 were
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 have 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 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 painful 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 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 of their
own fate, I retreated to a far corner and waited.

I heard
footsteps as she came for me at the end of the day, and I padded along
the isle 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 it 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 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.
The End.

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 the composite story of millions of
formerly owned pets who die each year in American and Canadian animal
shelters.

Please use the essay to help educate, on your
websites, in newsletters, on animal shelters 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.


The Joys of Being a Dog Mom

DOG MOM
Before I was a Dog Mom: I made and ate hot meals unmolested.
I had unstained, unfurred clothes.
I had quiet conversations on the phone.
even if the doorbell rang.

Before I was a Dog Mom:
I slept as late as I wanted
And never worried about how late I got to bed
or if I could get into my bed.

Before I was a Dog Mom:
I cleaned my house every day.
I never tripped over toys, stuffed, chewies
or invited the neighbor's dog over to play.

Before I was a Dog Mom:
I didn't worry if my plants, cleansers, plastic bags,
toilet paper, soap or deodorant
were poisonous or dangerous.

Before I was a Dog Mom:
I had never been Drooled on
Chewed on
Or pinched by puppy teeth.

Before I was a Dog Mom:
I had complete control of
My thoughts
My body and mind.
I slept all night without sharing
the covers or pillow.

Before I was a Dog Mom:
I never looked into big, soulful eyes and cried.
I never felt my heart break into a million pieces
when I couldn't stop a hurt.
I never knew something so furry and four-legged
could affect my heart so deeply.

Before I was a Dog Mom:
I had never held a sleeping puppy
just because I couldn't put it down.
I had never gotten up in the middle of the night
every 10 minutes to make sure all was well.
I didn't know how warm it feels inside
to feed a hungry puppy.
I didn't know that something so small
could make me feel so important.

Before I was a Dog Mom:
I had never known the warmth
the joy,
the love,
the heartache,
the wonderment
or the satisfaction of being
A Dog Mom.