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 couple of murdered throw pillow, 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, becuase 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 secrets 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, 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 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 welcome her into our home, tried to show her affection, and obeyed her. I was happy cause 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 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 no 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 sund 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 carreer 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 m"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 on 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 freindship and loyalty, and 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 shooked their heads and asked, "How could you?"
They are so 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 froliking for attention of happy puppies, obvious to 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 aisle after her to a seperate 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 vien. 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, My Beloved Master, I was thinking of. I will think fo you and wait for you forever. May everyone if your life continue to show you so much loyalty!
By Jim Willis 2001
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