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 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 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 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 were
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, pocked fingers in my eyes, investigated my ears, and gave me kisses
onmy nose. I loved everything about them and their touch, because you 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, 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 in 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 appartment 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 untill 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 try and 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 np attempt to find me another good home. They shook their head and said "How could
you?" They are as attentive to us here in the shelter as their busy schedukes 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 and 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 seperate 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 in 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 evey 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 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...