A sad story for dog lovers

[Guest guest]

Hello friends

I guess by now you all realize I am a devoted dog nut, with 4 of my own. I also spent time working in an animal shelter, as well as being a foster mom to abandoned kittens, who were not yet old enough to eat on their own, as well as to a wonderful siberian husky named Trooper, who's owner was going to have put to sleep at the age of 6 years, simply because he fought with his lead dog so he could no longer use him for sledding, and didn't *have the time* to find him a good home, or any home for that matter. I had Trooper for 4 months during which time I did some training with him, got him housebroken, and found him a home with 2 great women who love him to death. And as a matter of fact, Trooper is the daddy to my 2 puppies.

Anyhow, I received a story from my Siberian husky email list that really touched me because of my love of these four legged fur angels. And I know there are a few dog lover here as well so I wanted to share this story with you too. Just a warning-have the kleenex ready.

When I was a puppy, I entertained you with my antics and made you laugh. Youcalled me your child, and despite a number of chewed shoes and a couple ofmurdered 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'drelent, and roll me over for a bellyrub. My housebreaking took a littlelonger than expected, because you were terribly busy, but we worked on thattogether. I remember those nights of nuzzling you in bed and listening toyour confidences and secret dreams, and I believed that life could not beany 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 fordogs," you said), and I took long naps in the sun waiting for you to comehome at the end of the day.Gradually, you began spending more time at work and on your career, and moretime searching for a human mate. I waited for you patiently, comforted youthrough heartbreaks and disappointments, never chided you about baddecisions, and romped with glee at your homecomings, and when you fell inlove.She, now your wife, is not a "dog person" - still I welcomed her into ourhome, tried to show her affection, and obeyed her. I was happy because youwere happy. Then the human babies came along and I shared your excitement. Iwas fascinated by their pinkness, how they smelled, and I wanted to motherthem, too. Only she and you worried that I might hurt them, and I spent mostof my time banished to another room, or to a dog crate. Oh, how I wanted tolove them, but I became a "prisoner of love."As they began to grow, I became their friend. They clung to my fur andpulled themselves up on wobbly legs, poked fingers in my eyes, investigatedmy ears, and gave me kisses on my nose. I loved everything about them andtheir touch - because your touch was now so infrequent - and I would havedefended them with my life if need be. I would sneak into their beds andlisten to their worries and secret dreams, and together we waited for thesound of your car in the driveway. There had been a time, when others askedyou if you had a dog, that you produced a photo of me from your wallet andtold 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 theywill be moving to an apartment that does not allow pets. You've made theright decision for your "family," but there was a time when I was your onlyfamily. I was excited about the car ride until we arrived at the animalshelter. It smelled of dogs and cats, of fear, of hopelessness. You filledout 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 realitiesfacing a middle-aged dog, even one with "papers." You had to pry your son'sfingers loose from my collar as he screamed "No, Daddy! Please don't letthem take my dog!" And I worried for him, and what lessons you had justtaught him about friendship and loyalty, about love and responsibility, andabout respect for all life. You gave me a goodbye pat on the head, avoidedmy eyes, and politely refused to take my collar and leash with you. You hada deadline to meet and now I have one, too. After you left, the two niceladies said you probably knew about your upcoming move months ago and madeno 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 schedulesallow. 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 hopedit would at least be someone who cared, anyone who might save me. When Irealized I could not compete with the frolicking for attention of happypuppies, oblivious to their own fate, I retreated to a far corner andwaited. I heard her footsteps as she came for me at the end of the day, andI padded along the aisle after her to a separate room. A blissfully quietroom. She placed me on the table and rubbed my ears, and told me not toworry. My heart pounded in anticipation of what was to come, but there wasalso a sense of relief. The prisoner of love had run out of days. As is mynature, I was more concerned about her. The burden which she bears weighsheavily on her, and I know that, the same way I knew your every mood. Shegently placed a tourniquet around my foreleg as a tear ran down her cheek. Ilicked her hand in the same way I used to comfort you so many years ago. Sheexpertly slid the hypodermic needle into my vein. As I felt the sting andthe cool liquid coursing through my body, I lay down sleepily, looked intoher kind eyes and murmured "How could you?"Perhaps because she understood my dogspeak, she said "I'm so sorry." Shehugged me, and hurriedly explained it was her job to make sure I went to abetter place, where I wouldn't be ignored or abused or abandoned, or have tofend for myself - a place of love and light so very different from thisearthly place. And with my last bit of energy, I tried to convey to her witha thump of my tail that my "How could you?" was not directed at her. It wasyou, My Beloved Master, I was thinking of. I will think of you and wait foryou forever. May everyone in your life continue to show you so much loyalty.The End

When I was a puppy, I entertained you with my antics and made you laugh. Youcalled me your child, and despite a number of chewed shoes and a couple ofmurdered 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'drelent, and roll me over for a bellyrub. My housebreaking took a littlelonger than expected, because you were terribly busy, but we worked on thattogether. I remember those nights of nuzzling you in bed and listening toyour confidences and secret dreams, and I believed that life could not beany 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 fordogs," you said), and I took long naps in the sun waiting for you to comehome at the end of the day.Gradually, you began spending more time at work and on your career, and moretime searching for a human mate. I waited for you patiently, comforted youthrough heartbreaks and disappointments, never chided you about baddecisions, and romped with glee at your homecomings, and when you fell inlove.She, now your wife, is not a "dog person" - still I welcomed her into ourhome, tried to show her affection, and obeyed her. I was happy because youwere happy. Then the human babies came along and I shared your excitement. Iwas fascinated by their pinkness, how they smelled, and I wanted to motherthem, too. Only she and you worried that I might hurt them, and I spent mostof my time banished to another room, or to a dog crate. Oh, how I wanted tolove them, but I became a "prisoner of love."As they began to grow, I became their friend. They clung to my fur andpulled themselves up on wobbly legs, poked fingers in my eyes, investigatedmy ears, and gave me kisses on my nose. I loved everything about them andtheir touch - because your touch was now so infrequent - and I would havedefended them with my life if need be. I would sneak into their beds andlisten to their worries and secret dreams, and together we waited for thesound of your car in the driveway. There had been a time, when others askedyou if you had a dog, that you produced a photo of me from your wallet andtold 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 theywill be moving to an apartment that does not allow pets. You've made theright decision for your "family," but there was a time when I was your onlyfamily. I was excited about the car ride until we arrived at the animalshelter. It smelled of dogs and cats, of fear, of hopelessness. You filledout 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 realitiesfacing a middle-aged dog, even one with "papers." You had to pry your son'sfingers loose from my collar as he screamed "No, Daddy! Please don't letthem take my dog!" And I worried for him, and what lessons you had justtaught him about friendship and loyalty, about love and responsibility, andabout respect for all life. You gave me a goodbye pat on the head, avoidedmy eyes, and politely refused to take my collar and leash with you. You hada deadline to meet and now I have one, too. After you left, the two niceladies said you probably knew about your upcoming move months ago and madeno 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 schedulesallow. 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 hopedit would at least be someone who cared, anyone who might save me. When Irealized I could not compete with the frolicking for attention of happypuppies, oblivious to their own fate, I retreated to a far corner andwaited. I heard her footsteps as she came for me at the end of the day, andI padded along the aisle after her to a separate room. A blissfully quietroom. She placed me on the table and rubbed my ears, and told me not toworry. My heart pounded in anticipation of what was to come, but there wasalso a sense of relief. The prisoner of love had run out of days. As is mynature, I was more concerned about her. The burden which she bears weighsheavily on her, and I know that, the same way I knew your every mood. Shegently placed a tourniquet around my foreleg as a tear ran down her cheek. Ilicked her hand in the same way I used to comfort you so many years ago. Sheexpertly slid the hypodermic needle into my vein. As I felt the sting andthe cool liquid coursing through my body, I lay down sleepily, looked intoher kind eyes and murmured "How could you?"Perhaps because she understood my dogspeak, she said "I'm so sorry." Shehugged me, and hurriedly explained it was her job to make sure I went to abetter place, where I wouldn't be ignored or abused or abandoned, or have tofend for myself - a place of love and light so very different from thisearthly place. And with my last bit of energy, I tried to convey to her witha thump of my tail that my "How could you?" was not directed at her. It wasyou, My Beloved Master, I was thinking of. I will think of you and wait foryou forever. May everyone in your life continue to show you so much loyalty.The End