a friend of mine sent me this. it made me cry.



>> 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 bellyrub.
>>
>>
>>
>> My housebreaking took a little longer than expected, because you were
>> terribly busy, but we worked on that together. I re member those n ights of
>> nuzzling y ou 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.
>>
>>
>>
& gt;> 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.
>>
>>
>>
>> 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
>> t ime
>& gt; 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 wit h you. You had a deadline to meet
>> and
>> now I ha ve 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, obl ivious to th eir 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 an ticipation 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 dire cted 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. Ple ase 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.

MERRY CHRISTMAS EVERYONE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

pretty sad today. a friend of my family's died of cancer. very unexpected. she was a sweet lady, very kind and generous, and LOVED animal. the world lost a wonderful person.