Here in this house.....
I will never know the loneliness I hear in the barks of the other dogs 'out
there'.
I can sleep soundly, assured that when I wake my world will not have changed
I will never know hunger, or the fear of not knowing if I'll eat.
I will not shiver in the cold, or grow weary from the heat.
I will feel the sun's heat, and the rain's coolness,
And be allowed to smell all that can reach my nose.
My fur will shine, and never be dirty or matted.
Here in this house...
There will be an effort to communicate with me on my level.
I will be talked to and, even if I don't understand,
I can enjoy the warmth of the words.
I will be given a name so that I may know who I am among many.
My name will be used in joy, and I will love the sound of it!
Here in this house...
I will never be a substitute for anything I am not.
I will never be used to improve peoples' images of themselves.
I will be loved because I am who I am, not someone's idea of who I should be
I will never suffer for someone's anger, impatience, or stupidity.
I will be taught all the things I need to know to be loved by all.
If I do not learn my lessons well, they will look to my teacher for blame.
Here in this house...
I can trust arms that hold, hands that touch...
Knowing that, no matter what they do, they do it for the good of me.
If I am ill, I will be doctored.
If scared, I will be calmed.
If sad, I will be cheered.
No matter what I look like, I will be considered beautiful and thought to be
of value.
I will never be cast out because I am too old, too ill, too unruly, or not
cute enough.
My life is a responsibility, and not an afterthought.
I will learn that humans can almost, sometimes, be as kind and as fair as
dogs.
Here in this house...
I will belong.
I will be home.
~Author Unknown
How Could You ?Copyright 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 housetraining 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, 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. 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 or cat, 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 goodbye 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, 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 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. 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 meant for her. It was you, My Beloved Master, I was thinking of. I will think of you and wait for you forever.
May everyone in your life continue to show you so much loyalty.
The End
A note from the author:
If “How could you?” gave you tears in your eyes when you read it, as it gave me when I wrote it, is it because the story is the destiny for millions of former owned pets who die in American and Canadian shelters every year. Everyone is welcome to use the article for non-commercial purpose as long as it has the copyright note. Use it for education, at your homepages, in newsletters, at shelters and hang it at the vets office. Tell the public that the decision to bring an animal into the family is a decision for life and the animals deserve our love and care. It is your responsibility to find a new home for your pet and the shelters can offer you advice and guide you and all life is valuable.
I RESCUED A HUMAN TODAY
I rescued a human today.
Her eyes met mine as she walked down the corridor peering
apprehensively into the kennels. I felt her need instantly and knew
I had to help her. I wagged my tail, not too exuberantly, so she
wouldn't be afraid.
As she stopped at my kennel I blocked her view
from a little accident I had in the back of my cage. I didn't want
her to know that I hadn't been walked today. Sometimes the shelter
keepers get too busy and I didn't want her to think poorly of them.
As she read my kennel card I hoped that she wouldn't feel sad about
my past. I only have the future to look forward to and want to make
a difference in someone's life.
She got down on her knees and made
little kissy sounds at me. I shoved my shoulder and side of my head
up against the bars to comfort her. Gentle fingertips caressed my
neck; she was desperate for companionship.
A tear fell down her
cheek and I raised my paw to assure her that all would be well.
Soon my kennel door opened and her smile was so bright that I
instantly jumped into her arms. I would promise to keep her safe. I
would promise to always be by her side. I would promise to do
everything I could to see that radiant smile and sparkle in her
eyes. I was so fortunate that she came down my corridor. So many
more are out there who haven't walked the corridors. So many more to
be saved. At least I could save one.
I rescued a human today.
Chained to a post in a chilly backyard,
Housed in a shed that was airless and dark,
And every few weeks had a run in the park.
When boredom set in with no fun and no work,
One day it broke loose and went quietly berserk.
Pa couldn't fathom just why it went wild,
As it flattened his wife and then bit his child.
The police were called in to sort out the mess,
And the whole sorry tale was revealed by the press,
The Rescue Society was really annoyed,
So, the dog was rehomed--and the owners destroyed
10 COMMANDMENTS FOR PROSPECTIVE DOG OWNERS
1 My life is likely to last ten to fifteen years. Any separation from you will be painful for me.
Remember that before you buy me.
2. Give me time to understand what you want of me.
3. Place your trust in me - it's crucial to my well-being.
4. Don't be angry at me for long and don't lock me up as punishment.
You have your work, your entertainment and your friends. I have only you.
5. Talk to me sometimes. Even if I don't understand your words,
I understand your voice when you speak to me.
6. Be aware that however you treat me, I'll never forget it.
7. Remember before you hit me that I have teeth that could easily crush the bones
of your hand but that I choose not to bite you.
8. Before you scold me for being uncooperative, obstinate or lazy, ask yourself
if something might be bothering me. Perhaps I'm not well, not getting the
right food, or I've been out in the sun too long, or my heart is getting old and weak.
9. Take care of me when I get old; you, too, will get old.
10. Go with me on difficult journeys.
Never say, "I can't bear to watch it, or, "Let it happen in my
absence."
Everything is easier for me if you are there. Remember, I love you.
* * * * * * * * * * * *
The dishes with the paw print are yours and contain your food. The other dishes are mine and contain my food. Please note that placing a paw print in the middle of my plate and food does not mean it becomes your food and dish, nor do I find that aesthetically pleasing in the slightest.
The stairway is not a racetrack. Beating me to the bottom is not the object.
Tripping me doesn't help because I fall faster than you can run.
I cannot buy anything bigger than a king-sized bed. I am very sorry about this. Do not think I will continue sleeping on the couch to ensure your comfort. Dogs and cats can actually curl up in a ball when they sleep. It is not necessary to sleep perpendicular to each other stretched out to the fullest extent possible. I also know that sticking tails straight out and having tongues hanging out the other end to maximize space is nothing but sarcasm and disrespect.
For the last time, there is not a secret exit from the bathroom. If, by some miracle, I beat you there and manage to get the door shut, it is not necessary to claw, whine, meow, try to turn the knob or stick your paw under the edge and try to pull the door open. I must exit through the same door I entered. I have been using the bathroom for years--canine or feline attendance is not mandatory.
The proper order is kiss me, then go smell the other dog or cat's rear end, NOT THE OTHER WAY AROUND. I cannot stress this enough!
To pacify you, my dear pets, I have posted the following message on our front door:
"Rules for Non-Pet Owners Who Visit and Always Complain About Our Pets":
1. They live here. You don't.
2. If you don't want hair on your clothes, stay off the furniture. (That's why they call it "fur"niture )
3. I like my pets a lot better than I like most people.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
My dogs live here, they're here to stay. You don't like pets, be on your way.
They share my home, my food, my space, this is their home, this is their place.
You will find dog hair on the floor, they will alert you're at the door.
they may request a little pat, a simple 'no' will settle that.
It gripes me when I hear you say 'just how is it you live this way?
they smell, they shed, they're in the way.' WHO ASKED YOU? is all I say.
They love me more than anyone, my voice is like the rising sun,
they merely have to hear me say 'C'mon , time to go and play'
then tails wag and faces grin, they bounce and hop and make a din.
They never say 'no time for you', they're always there, to GO and DO.
And if I'm sad, they're by my side and if I'm mad, they circle wide
and if I laugh, they laugh with me, they understand, they always see.
So once again, I say to you come visit me, but know this too.
My dogs live here, they're here to stay, you don't like pets, be on your way.
They share my home, my food, my space this is their home, this is their place.
There aren't enough homes for all the dogs that are born. Please neuter your pets.
http://media.putfile.com/ShelterBG
.
Remember: Dogs and cats are better than kids because they:
1. Eat less
2. Don't ask for money all the time
3. Are easier to train
4. Usually come when called
5. Never drive your car
6. Don't hang out with drug-using friends
7. Don't smoke or drink
8. Don't worry about having to buy the latest fashions
9. Don't wear your clothes
10. Don't need a gazillion pounds for university, and ……. (important!) …..
11. If they get pregnant, you can sell their children
FLYBALL FOLKS……….
...have messy houses yet their kennels are spotless.
...think everyone has dog crates in their living room.
...have kids who know more about the 'birds & the bees' when they're five than most people know when they're 40.
...will drive 400 miles, spend £100* on diesel, £150 on a hotel and £50 on meals to bring home a 50p ribbon.
* Or more due to inflation!
