How Could You...?
Copyright Jim Willis 2001, all rights reserved
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 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
"The Animals' Savior"
Copyright Jim Willis 1999
I looked at all the caged animals in the
shelter...the cast-offs of human society.
I saw in their eyes love and hope, fear and dread,
sadness and betrayal.
And I was angry.
"God," I said, "this is terrible!
Why don't you do something?"
God was silent for a moment and then He spoke
softly.
"I have done something," He replied.
"I created You."
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This page was last updated: 2004-10-08 12:52:35 CEST