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 couple of murdered thrown 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, 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 old me not to worry. My heart pounded in anticipation
of what was to co! me, 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 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.

this brought tears to my eyes, are ur eyes wet too ?

desuetude 10:03:00 AM

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