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 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 housekeeping 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 and more time at work and on your career, and more time searching for a human partner. I waited for you patiently, comforted you through the heartbreaks and disapointments, 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" yet still I welcomed her into our home, tried to show her some affection, and obeyed her commands.

I was happy because you were happy. Then the human babies came alongand I shared your excitment. I was fascinated by the pinkiness, 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 cage. 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 so infrequent now and I would`ve defended them with my life had 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 drive.

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 as you have a new career opportunity in another city, and you and they will be moving to a new apartment that does not allow pets. You`ve made the right decision for your "family,"

but there was a time that I was your only family. I was excited about the car ride until we arrived at the cat and dog home. It smelled of cats and dogs, of fear, of hopelessness.

You filled out the paperwork and said "I know you will finda good home foe her." They shrugged their shoulders 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`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 life.

You gave me a good-bye pat on the head, avoided my eyes, and politely refused to take my collar and lead with you. You had a deadline to meet 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 home. They shook their heads and asked "How could you?"

They are as attentive as their busy work scedules allow. They feed us, of course, but I lost my appetite days ago. At first, whenever anyone passed my cage , I rushed to the front, hoping it was you who had changed your mind and that this was all a bad dream or I hoped it would be at least someone who cared, anyone who might save me. When I realised I could not compete with the frolicking for attension of the happy puppies, oblivious to their own fate. I retreated to a far corner and waited. I heard footsteps as she came for me at the end of each day, and I padded along the corridor after her to the 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 outof days.

As is my nature, I was more concerned for 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 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 dog 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 wouldn`t be ignored or abused or abandoned, or have to fend for my self, a place of love and light so very different to this earthly place.

And in 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 about you. I will think about you and wait for you forever. May everyone in your life continue to show you as much loyalty .

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John Grogan has written a book called Marley and Me which many may find worthy of reading. Its a true story of an American couple who buy a dog and how their life change as a result. It covers the good times and the bad times encountered when owning a dog, and many dog owners will be able to relate to many of the incidents which arise.

As the book has become a best seller it has been made into a brilliant film available on DVD worthy of watching

Vet Bruce Fogle has written a book called A Dog Abroad (published by Ebury Press £14.99). This captivating book details Bruce`s adventures and life with his golden retriever Macy . The story recounts life from the angle of a dog owner and also of a vet seeing more than one perspective in owning a dog. Many may find this book enlightening and and as with the previos mentioned book relate to many episodes of owning a dog.