Re: [gardeners] For you dog lovers "How could you"

Alan Zelhart (gardeners@globalgarden.com)
Tue, 13 Feb 2001 13:51:46 -0700 

Geeze, thanks for dragging me down this afternoon, now I'm totally
depressed!  Such a terribly sad story.

Alan        Chandler, Arizona        Sunset Zone: 13

http://members.home.net/gizmoaz/~gizmoaz.htm
Over 145 Rose Bushes Planted! 75 Different varieties! Never a dull moment!!


byron bromley wrote:

> Had to pass this on
>
> ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
> "How Could You?"
>
> Copyright Jim Willis 2001
>
> jwillis@b...
>
> 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 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 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 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 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 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 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.