How could you?? - Yada, Yada, Yada

mklein3003 · 11-30-06, 07:35 PM

:-( I still have tears in my eyes as I pass this on to you because it touched my heart so very,very much. Please pass this on to all other animal lovers and be prepared for a few tears.

Now don't get too upset reading this...I just had to pass it on.

A man in Grand Rapids, Michigan incredibly tookout 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 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 f or 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 I 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 infrequ ent -- 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. 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 gav e 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 that 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 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 y ear in American & Canadian animal shelters.
Anyone is welcome to distribute the essay for a noncommercial purpose, as long as it is properly attributed with the copyright notice. Please use it 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.
Jim Willis
Please pass this on to everyone, not to hurt them or make them sad, but it could save maybe, even one, unwanted pet.

Aimie · 11-30-06, 08:19 PM

that is one of the saddest things i have read. but it did need shared. thank you for posting

~*Sarah*~ · 11-30-06, 08:29 PM

True, but so sad!

The X youthpastorswife · 11-30-06, 08:36 PM

wow crying my eyes out! it's so true.

Carly · 11-30-06, 09:22 PM

so sad

Kaylasmommie · 11-30-06, 09:24 PM

Wow...

11-30-06, 07:35 PM	#1 (permalink)
mklein3003 Heart of a Lion Join Date: Jul 2006 Location: Greenville,sc Posts: 416 Thanks: 0 Thanked 0 Times in 0 Posts	How could you?? :-( I still have tears in my eyes as I pass this on to you because it touched my heart so very,very much. Please pass this on to all other animal lovers and be prepared for a few tears. Now don't get too upset reading this...I just had to pass it on. A man in Grand Rapids, Michigan incredibly tookout 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 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 f or 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 I 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 infrequ ent -- 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. 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 gav e 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 that 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 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 y ear in American & Canadian animal shelters. Anyone is welcome to distribute the essay for a noncommercial purpose, as long as it is properly attributed with the copyright notice. Please use it 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. Jim Willis Please pass this on to everyone, not to hurt them or make them sad, but it could save maybe, even one, unwanted pet. __________________

11-30-06, 08:19 PM	#2
Aimie has a pain in the neck.... literally a PAIN in her neck!!! Join Date: Oct 2006 Location: Near Spokane Posts: 15,730 Thanks: 585 Thanked 489 Times in 409 Posts My Mood:	Re: How could you?? that is one of the saddest things i have read. but it did need shared. thank you for posting __________________ ticker gone.... we're staying in washington!!!

11-30-06, 08:29 PM	#3
~Sarah~ I don't like "big bird" Join Date: Oct 2006 Location: Midland, Texas Posts: 4,751 Thanks: 0 Thanked 0 Times in 0 Posts	Re: How could you?? True, but so sad! __________________ SARAH Mommy to Hannah (7/21/05) & Sam (2/2/07) My website My blog

11-30-06, 08:36 PM	#4
The X youthpastorswife Gone for good Join Date: Jul 2006 Posts: 2,518 Thanks: 12 Thanked 59 Times in 59 Posts	Re: How could you?? wow crying my eyes out! it's so true. __________________ If any of my FRIENDS wanna stay in contact my myspace is www.myspace.com/exalabamagirl

11-30-06, 09:22 PM	#5
Carly I am owned by Vickie Join Date: Jul 2006 Location: Port Charlotte, FL Posts: 2,712 Thanks: 250 Thanked 111 Times in 111 Posts My Mood:	Re: How could you?? so sad __________________ Carly Ashlyn's blog http://ashlynchaney.blogspot.com/

11-30-06, 09:24 PM	#6
Kaylasmommie ... Join Date: Jul 2006 Location: Augusta, GA Posts: 10,284 Thanks: 10 Thanked 37 Times in 37 Posts	Re: How could you?? Wow... __________________ The 2 loves of my life Kayla 7/6/05 & Braylen 6/21/07 My Blog My Space