Pet Lovers

Note from the Editor:
Even though I have read this several times and I know what it says, I still can't help but get choked up and allow a tear or two to fall - Please feel free to
pass this along. Scroll all the way down for the 10 Pet Commandments.

A man in Grand Rapids, Michigan incredibly took out a $7000 full page ad in the paper to present the following
essay to the people of his community.

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 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 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 ... 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 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 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 & Canadian animal
shelters. Please use this 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 & neuter campaigns in order to prevent unwanted animals.

Please pass this on to everyone, not to hurt them or make them sad, but it could save maybe,
even one, unwanted pet.

Remember...They love UNCONDITIONALLY.

The 10 Pet Commandments

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

2.        Give me time to understand what you want from me. Do not break my spirit with your temper, though I will always forgive
you. Your patience and understanding will teach me more quickly those things you want
me to learn.

3.        Have me spayed or neutered.

4.        Treat me kindly, my beloved friend, for no heart in all the world is more grateful for your kindness than mine. Don't be
angry with me for long, and don't lock me up as punishment. After all, you have your job, your friends, your entertainment. I
have only you.

5.        Speak to me often. Even if I don't understand all your words, I understand your voice when it's speaking to me. Your
voice is the sweetest sound I ever hear, as you must know by my enthusiastic excitement when your footsteps fall upon my
waiting ear.

6.        Please take me inside when it's cold and wet. I'm a domestic animal and am no longer accustomed to the bitter elements.
I ask for little more than your gentle hands petting me. Keep my bowl filled with clean water; I cannot tell you when I'm thirsty.
Feed me good food so that I may stay well, to romp and play and do your bidding, to be by your side, and stand ready, willing
and able to share with you my life, for that is what I live for. However you treat me, I'll never forget it.

7.        Don't hit me. Remember, I have teeth that could easily crush the bones in your hand, but I choose not to bite you.

8.        Before you scold me for being lazy or uncooperative, ask yourself if something might be bothering me. Perhaps I am not
getting the right food, I've been out in the sun too long, or my heart may be getting old and weak.

9.        Take care of me when I get old. You will grow old too.

10.        When I am very old, when I no longer enjoy good health, please do not make heroic efforts to keep me going. I am not
having fun. Just see to it that my trusting life is taken gently. And be with me on that difficult journey when it is time to say
goodbye. Never say, "I can't bear to watch". Everything is easier for me when you are there. I will leave this earth knowing with
my last breath that my fate was always safest in your hands.
I love you.

Huntington Beach, CA

"Do You Ever Stop to Face What They Call Reality; Or is Your Day to Day World Filled With Dreams Of Fantasy?"

You need Java to see this applet.

PLEASE HELP!

RIP - My pal "Alex"
1992-2009

HB Brat