Squawksx3
01-08-2004, 12:16 AM
Since you have the kleenex in hand after watching the "you gotta see this" video.... please take the time to read this, I'm sure everyone has read it before, but its well worth the time to read again and is to help educate in hopes that lives will be saved.
I received it from Cindy, who is an animal control officer in the state of CA....
Jan
~original message~
To the many people that I have been in contact with in recent times. This
was sent to me by my sister and it has very special meaning to me as an it
is an every day part of my life , as it is so very true and so everyday.
Hope that as you read it and share it with others it will encourage each and
everyone of you to take to heart the message.
I have read this many times before, and each time I have to read it all the
way to the end. It is so , but it does not have to be.
Thanks for taking a few minutes to read this.
Cindy
>
>
> "HOW COULD YOU?"
>
> 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 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.
> 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, even one with "papers." You had to
> pry your son's fingers loose from my collar as he
> screamed "No, Daddy! Please don'tlet 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 soner
> 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,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
> year 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 bulletinboards. 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, thatfinding 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.
> Remember...They love UNCONDITIONALLY, If you give them
> LOVE :)
>
>
>
I received it from Cindy, who is an animal control officer in the state of CA....
Jan
~original message~
To the many people that I have been in contact with in recent times. This
was sent to me by my sister and it has very special meaning to me as an it
is an every day part of my life , as it is so very true and so everyday.
Hope that as you read it and share it with others it will encourage each and
everyone of you to take to heart the message.
I have read this many times before, and each time I have to read it all the
way to the end. It is so , but it does not have to be.
Thanks for taking a few minutes to read this.
Cindy
>
>
> "HOW COULD YOU?"
>
> 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 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.
> 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, even one with "papers." You had to
> pry your son's fingers loose from my collar as he
> screamed "No, Daddy! Please don'tlet 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 soner
> 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,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
> year 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 bulletinboards. 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, thatfinding 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.
> Remember...They love UNCONDITIONALLY, If you give them
> LOVE :)
>
>
>