When I was a child, 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 friends. Whenever I was "bad" you'd shake your finger and asked "HOW COULD YOU??" then, you'd relent and roll me over a belly rub.
My house breaking took a little longer than expected, because you were terribly busy, but we wroked on that together. I remember those nights of nuzzling you in bed and listening to your confidences and secret dreams, and I beleive that life could not be any more perfect.
We went for long walk and runs in the park, car rides, stops for ice-cream (I only get the cones, 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 waitied for you patiently, comforted you through heartbreaks and disapointments, never chided you about bad decisions, and romped with glee at your home comings, and when you fell in love.
She, now your wife is not a "dog person",-- still, I welcomed her into our home, try to show her affection and obey her. I was happy because you were happy. Then, the human baby came along, and I shared your excitement, I was fascinated by their pinkness, how they smiled, and I wanted to mothered 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 finger in my eyes, investigated my ears, and gave me kisses on my nose, I love everything about them and their touch, and I would've defended them with my life if need be. I would sneak into their beds and listen to their worries and scret 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 have 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 opptunity in another city, and you & them will be moving to an apartment that does not allow pets. You'vemade a right decision for your "family", but there was a time when I was your "only family".
I was excited at the car ride until we arrived at the animal shelter. It smelled of dogs & cats, of fear, of hoplessness. You filled up the paper 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-age dog, even one with "papers". You had to pry your son's fingers loose from my collar, as he screamed: "No, daddy, dont let them take my dog!!!!"
And I worried for him, and what lessons you had just thought him about friendship, and loyalty, about love and responsibility and about respect of 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 head and asked "HOW COULD YOU??"
They are as attentive to us here in the shelter as their busy schedule allow. They feed us of cause, but I lost my appetied days ago, at first, when anyone passed my pen, I rushed to the front, hoping that it was you that you had changed your mind-- that this was all a bad dream--, or I hope it would be at least someone who cares, anyone who might save me. when I realised I could not compete with the florlicking for attention of happy puppies, oblivious to their own fate, I retreated to a far corner and waited.
I heard her foot steps 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 that was also a sense of relief. The prisoner of love had run out of days. As in my nature, I was more concern 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 her tears 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 she understood my dog's speak, she said: "I am so sorry", she hugged me, and hurriedly explained it was her job to make sure I went to a better place, where I wouldnt be ignore 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 every one in your life continue to show you so much loyalty........................................... ....
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