[hha]

this was off my old vets website..I thought it was pretty cool, although kind of long


A Dog's Story:



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 "]ust 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 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