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I got this in an e-mail and it reminded me of oreo...I thought all of you would want to read it. It so sad crying crying

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
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

Please forward this to anyone who has a heart. Stop
the killings of millions of dogs each year. Adopt a
middle age dog, not a puppy. The puppies have their
whole lives, so let's make what the older dogs have
left pleasant.