How Could You?
A man in Grand Rapids, Michigan took out a $7000 full page ad in the paper to present the
following essay to the people of our community. It really touched my heart and I hope it will yours
too.
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
disappointment s, 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, 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'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 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 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. 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. The End
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 and 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 bulletin boards. 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, that finding 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.
