Visit To The Pound: Part 1
As a journalist, I decided to go to the dog pound, and interview some of the "inmates". I wanted to know what it was like in there from their perspective. What follows is not for the faint of heart.
I entered the building, and one of the workers accompanied me to the holding area. This is where dogs are kept before they are allowed up for adoption -- IF they are allowed up for adoption. If the dogs are found to be aggressive in any way, euthanasia is employed. Fortunately, if "fortunately" is the word to be used here -- this is a Canadian establishment, and they use lethal injection, not a gas chamber.
The pound worker led me past a big steel door that says "Employees Only". "What is in there?" I asked. From the look he gave me, I knew that this is where dogs go in, and never return.
We moved on to a row of kennels. The dogs were barking loudly, there was the acrid smell of urine and feces, and a feeling of despair seemed to permeate the room.
"Go ahead," the worker said. "They're all yours."
Pete
I looked into the first kennel, and saw only the back of a medium sized dog who was curled up in the corner of his kennel, shivering. He was mostly white, with some black spots. "Hello?" I said. "May I come in?" He lifted his head, as though it weighed more than he could bear. When he looked at me, I could see he was a Pitbull. His eyes were gentle, but filled with grief.
"Enter," was all he said.
I stepped in, closing the gate behind me. He put his head back down, facing away from me. I crouched down a few feet away.
"My name is Pete. Petey my Master called me," he said, still not looking at me.
"Why are you here Pete?" I asked.
"I am here because Master cannot afford to move to another province. I am here because someone with power said I am vicious, and a killer. Someone who never met me. Master took me for a walk one day, and some lady started to scream when she saw me. I got frightened, and barked at her. The dog police came, and they took me away. I have been with Master for 10 years. The last time I saw him, he just held me and cried. He kept telling me he was sorry. I worry for him. Whatever will he do without me?" Pete shivered even more.
A tear slid down my face. I am supposed to remain objective, but this was wrong -- so wrong.
"Thank you Pete." I said. He said nothing as I got up and left his kennel.
Popper
The kennel next to Pete's held a very young looking dog. Pure Border Collie by my guess. He stood on his hind legs, looking at me through the gate.
"Hello. My name's Popper. He tilted his head. "Are you here to take me home?"
"No, I'm sorry," I replied. "But I would like to talk with you."
"Sure. What would you like to talk about?"
"Popper, how did you come to be in this place?" I asked.
Popper dropped down from the gate, with a perplexed look on his face. He walked to the back of the kennel, then back to the front. I noticed he had one blue eye, and one brown. He was quite beautiful. His black and white coat was shiny and thick.
"I am not certain WHY I am here. I think maybe my family will come back for me. They bought me when I was only 6 weeks old. I remember they said how smart Border Collies are, and how it would be so easy to train me. They were very excited at first. The little ones played with me all the time. But the trouble with little Masters is, they refuse to stay in a group. I constantly had to nip their heels to keep them together." He looked confused. "Why won't they stay in a group?" he sighed. "So I did what I thought I should do. I am not quite sure why the little ones screamed when I did my job, but they did, and the Masters got very angry at me. They also got angry when I had to relieve myself, and did so in the house. I am not sure where they expected me to go. All they said was that I was the smartest breed in the world, and I should just KNOW better. Then they left me in the yard for a month or so. I got bored a lot, and I dug holes in the grass. The next thing I knew, the Masters brought me here."
Popper jumped back up on the gate, his white paws protruding through the links. He looked at me with his lovely eyes, and asked "Will you please let them know I want to come home? Please tell them I promise I will be good?"
"I will Popper," I said.
Spartan
My heart was breaking. I was beginning to regret coming here, but their stories had to be told. I moved along. The next dog I saw looked to be easily 100 lbs., a Rottweiler. He was handsome indeed, except for the scars on his face and back. He tilted his head, and looked me right in the eyes.
"Hello. Who are you?" he asked.
"I am a reporter," I replied. "May I speak with you for a little while?"
"Most certainly. My name is Spartan. You can come in, I won't bite," he said.
"Thank you Spartan. I will."
I entered his kennel, reached out and stroked his giant head. He made a loud grumbling noise, and closed his eyes.
"Spartan, why are you here?"
Before he could answer my question, he was suddenly in the grip of a nasty coughing spasm. It sounded painful.
"Please excuse me," he said when it passed. "Kennel cough. It seems all of us who come in here get it. "Why am I here? Well, about two years ago, I was born in the backyard of some person I can't even recall. I had 11 brothers and sisters. I recall a day when a big man came and gave that person some money, and took me away from my mother. They had to chain her up, as she was very angry that he took me. They chained her and beat her. I came to know the man by the name of Jim. I overheard him telling his friends that I would grow up to be big and mean like my mother. But as I grew older, all I wanted to do was play and be friends with everyone. Jim said I needed to be taught how to be mean, so he chained me up in the yard. No more house for me, he said, I was too spoiled. When people came by to visit, I was so happy to see them. I wanted them to come and play. But that made Jim angry, so he beat me with sticks and chains. When he came near, I would roll onto my back so he would know I wasn't a bad dog. That made him beat me more." Spartan's eyes clouded with grief. "Then he brought me here."
I reached out and stroked Spartan's massive gentle head once more. "I am so sorry Spartan. Some people are just plain evil." I gave him a kiss and left his kennel.
As I walked away, Spartan called out, "What will happen to me, nice lady?"
I shook my head. "I can't say Spartan. Maybe someone kind will come and get you. We can only hope."
Patsy
I walked a little further down. I could see a shape moving at the back of the next kennel. "Hello?" I called out. Suddenly the shape lunged at the gate in a fury, barking and gnashing its teeth. I stumbled backwards, and crashed into an adjacent kennel. The other dogs began barking loudly and jumping at their gates.
"Don't go near her," a small female voice came from behind me. "She's mad."
I gathered myself back together, and saw a little Jack Russell Terrier behind me.
"Thanks for the warning," I was still trembling. Across the way, the other dog, apparently a Husky and German Shepherd cross, was glaring at me, lips curled back revealing brown stained teeth. Her ribs and hips showed through her dull, matted grey coat. The little dog invited me into her kennel, and I gladly went in.
"Who are you?"
"My name is Patsy." The little brown and white dog held a paw up to the gate in greeting.
"My owner surrendered me. She said she wanted a cute little dog like the one on the TV show, Frasier. She didn't bother to look into the type of dog I am." Patsy heaved a sigh.
"I suppose she expected me to just lie about and only need a short walk each day, just like Eddie, but my energy was so high that I needed to run and play." She glanced at her surroundings. "Now I am here. I suppose it could be worse. I could be like -- her." Patsy looked towards the still growling dog across the way.
"What happened to make her so vicious?" I asked.
"From what we could gather," she replied. "she was found tied in a back yard. She only had a three foot chain. Some days there was no water. Rarely was there any food. One day a nice neighbour came by and brought her some meat. By then it was too late. She was already mad. She broke off her chain, and bit the poor man badly. We know she will be going behind the steel door. I am sad to say, I think it will be best. Perhaps then she will know some peace."
Just then, the door at the end of the building opened, and a woman stepped inside. All the dogs began to bark wildly, then one by one, they went quiet.
I whispered to Patsy, "Who is that? Why have all the dogs gone quiet?"
Patsy breathed deeply through her little nose, and closed her eyes. "SHE is a Rescuer. Can't you smell it?" she asked.
"Smell what?" I was confused.
"Compassion. Love. Sorrow. It emanates from her pores. She is here for one of us, but nobody knows who just yet." Patsy looked hopeful.
The Rescuer moved from kennel to kennel, looking at each dog. I sat quietly watching. I could see tears in her eyes as she made eye contact with each one. She stopped at Spartan's cage and spoke quietly to him.
"No more beatings my man. No more. You are coming with me. From here on in, it's all going to get better."
The Rescuer produced a leash, opened the kennel door, and took Spartan away. As he walked beside her, his little stubby tail wagged with delight.
Patsy sighed again. I could see the disappointment in her eyes, and it grieved me. They all had the same look, as they watched The Rescuer depart.
"I am so sorry Patsy," I said in a whisper. "But you are a little dog, and everyone loves little dogs. I am convinced you will be rescued soon." Patsy's brown eyes twinkled at me, a little bit of hope returning.
I had heard and seen enough. I needed to tell people how it was for these unfortunate creatures. They were all here through no fault of their own. I stood to leave. I passed by many other dogs I did not interview, looking at each one, wishing I could take them all home with me and give them the love they deserved. I stood by the door taking one last glance back, when it opened, and one of the pound workers came in. His face was drawn and sad. He walked by without a word, and stopped at Pete's kennel. I heard him take a deep breath, then he paused, and opened the kennel door.
The words were muffled, but I am sure I heard him say "I'm sorry old boy."
He came out, with Petey in tow. The old dog's head hung down in resignation, and they both disappeared behind the big steel door.
I entered the building, and one of the workers accompanied me to the holding area. This is where dogs are kept before they are allowed up for adoption -- IF they are allowed up for adoption. If the dogs are found to be aggressive in any way, euthanasia is employed. Fortunately, if "fortunately" is the word to be used here -- this is a Canadian establishment, and they use lethal injection, not a gas chamber.
The pound worker led me past a big steel door that says "Employees Only". "What is in there?" I asked. From the look he gave me, I knew that this is where dogs go in, and never return.
We moved on to a row of kennels. The dogs were barking loudly, there was the acrid smell of urine and feces, and a feeling of despair seemed to permeate the room.
"Go ahead," the worker said. "They're all yours."
Pete
I looked into the first kennel, and saw only the back of a medium sized dog who was curled up in the corner of his kennel, shivering. He was mostly white, with some black spots. "Hello?" I said. "May I come in?" He lifted his head, as though it weighed more than he could bear. When he looked at me, I could see he was a Pitbull. His eyes were gentle, but filled with grief.
"Enter," was all he said.
I stepped in, closing the gate behind me. He put his head back down, facing away from me. I crouched down a few feet away.
"My name is Pete. Petey my Master called me," he said, still not looking at me.
"Why are you here Pete?" I asked.
"I am here because Master cannot afford to move to another province. I am here because someone with power said I am vicious, and a killer. Someone who never met me. Master took me for a walk one day, and some lady started to scream when she saw me. I got frightened, and barked at her. The dog police came, and they took me away. I have been with Master for 10 years. The last time I saw him, he just held me and cried. He kept telling me he was sorry. I worry for him. Whatever will he do without me?" Pete shivered even more.
A tear slid down my face. I am supposed to remain objective, but this was wrong -- so wrong.
"Thank you Pete." I said. He said nothing as I got up and left his kennel.
Popper
The kennel next to Pete's held a very young looking dog. Pure Border Collie by my guess. He stood on his hind legs, looking at me through the gate.
"Hello. My name's Popper. He tilted his head. "Are you here to take me home?"
"No, I'm sorry," I replied. "But I would like to talk with you."
"Sure. What would you like to talk about?"
"Popper, how did you come to be in this place?" I asked.
Popper dropped down from the gate, with a perplexed look on his face. He walked to the back of the kennel, then back to the front. I noticed he had one blue eye, and one brown. He was quite beautiful. His black and white coat was shiny and thick.
"I am not certain WHY I am here. I think maybe my family will come back for me. They bought me when I was only 6 weeks old. I remember they said how smart Border Collies are, and how it would be so easy to train me. They were very excited at first. The little ones played with me all the time. But the trouble with little Masters is, they refuse to stay in a group. I constantly had to nip their heels to keep them together." He looked confused. "Why won't they stay in a group?" he sighed. "So I did what I thought I should do. I am not quite sure why the little ones screamed when I did my job, but they did, and the Masters got very angry at me. They also got angry when I had to relieve myself, and did so in the house. I am not sure where they expected me to go. All they said was that I was the smartest breed in the world, and I should just KNOW better. Then they left me in the yard for a month or so. I got bored a lot, and I dug holes in the grass. The next thing I knew, the Masters brought me here."
Popper jumped back up on the gate, his white paws protruding through the links. He looked at me with his lovely eyes, and asked "Will you please let them know I want to come home? Please tell them I promise I will be good?"
"I will Popper," I said.
Spartan
My heart was breaking. I was beginning to regret coming here, but their stories had to be told. I moved along. The next dog I saw looked to be easily 100 lbs., a Rottweiler. He was handsome indeed, except for the scars on his face and back. He tilted his head, and looked me right in the eyes.
"Hello. Who are you?" he asked.
"I am a reporter," I replied. "May I speak with you for a little while?"
"Most certainly. My name is Spartan. You can come in, I won't bite," he said.
"Thank you Spartan. I will."
I entered his kennel, reached out and stroked his giant head. He made a loud grumbling noise, and closed his eyes.
"Spartan, why are you here?"
Before he could answer my question, he was suddenly in the grip of a nasty coughing spasm. It sounded painful.
"Please excuse me," he said when it passed. "Kennel cough. It seems all of us who come in here get it. "Why am I here? Well, about two years ago, I was born in the backyard of some person I can't even recall. I had 11 brothers and sisters. I recall a day when a big man came and gave that person some money, and took me away from my mother. They had to chain her up, as she was very angry that he took me. They chained her and beat her. I came to know the man by the name of Jim. I overheard him telling his friends that I would grow up to be big and mean like my mother. But as I grew older, all I wanted to do was play and be friends with everyone. Jim said I needed to be taught how to be mean, so he chained me up in the yard. No more house for me, he said, I was too spoiled. When people came by to visit, I was so happy to see them. I wanted them to come and play. But that made Jim angry, so he beat me with sticks and chains. When he came near, I would roll onto my back so he would know I wasn't a bad dog. That made him beat me more." Spartan's eyes clouded with grief. "Then he brought me here."
I reached out and stroked Spartan's massive gentle head once more. "I am so sorry Spartan. Some people are just plain evil." I gave him a kiss and left his kennel.
As I walked away, Spartan called out, "What will happen to me, nice lady?"
I shook my head. "I can't say Spartan. Maybe someone kind will come and get you. We can only hope."
Patsy
I walked a little further down. I could see a shape moving at the back of the next kennel. "Hello?" I called out. Suddenly the shape lunged at the gate in a fury, barking and gnashing its teeth. I stumbled backwards, and crashed into an adjacent kennel. The other dogs began barking loudly and jumping at their gates.
"Don't go near her," a small female voice came from behind me. "She's mad."
I gathered myself back together, and saw a little Jack Russell Terrier behind me.
"Thanks for the warning," I was still trembling. Across the way, the other dog, apparently a Husky and German Shepherd cross, was glaring at me, lips curled back revealing brown stained teeth. Her ribs and hips showed through her dull, matted grey coat. The little dog invited me into her kennel, and I gladly went in.
"Who are you?"
"My name is Patsy." The little brown and white dog held a paw up to the gate in greeting.
"My owner surrendered me. She said she wanted a cute little dog like the one on the TV show, Frasier. She didn't bother to look into the type of dog I am." Patsy heaved a sigh.
"I suppose she expected me to just lie about and only need a short walk each day, just like Eddie, but my energy was so high that I needed to run and play." She glanced at her surroundings. "Now I am here. I suppose it could be worse. I could be like -- her." Patsy looked towards the still growling dog across the way.
"What happened to make her so vicious?" I asked.
"From what we could gather," she replied. "she was found tied in a back yard. She only had a three foot chain. Some days there was no water. Rarely was there any food. One day a nice neighbour came by and brought her some meat. By then it was too late. She was already mad. She broke off her chain, and bit the poor man badly. We know she will be going behind the steel door. I am sad to say, I think it will be best. Perhaps then she will know some peace."
Just then, the door at the end of the building opened, and a woman stepped inside. All the dogs began to bark wildly, then one by one, they went quiet.
I whispered to Patsy, "Who is that? Why have all the dogs gone quiet?"
Patsy breathed deeply through her little nose, and closed her eyes. "SHE is a Rescuer. Can't you smell it?" she asked.
"Smell what?" I was confused.
"Compassion. Love. Sorrow. It emanates from her pores. She is here for one of us, but nobody knows who just yet." Patsy looked hopeful.
The Rescuer moved from kennel to kennel, looking at each dog. I sat quietly watching. I could see tears in her eyes as she made eye contact with each one. She stopped at Spartan's cage and spoke quietly to him.
"No more beatings my man. No more. You are coming with me. From here on in, it's all going to get better."
The Rescuer produced a leash, opened the kennel door, and took Spartan away. As he walked beside her, his little stubby tail wagged with delight.
Patsy sighed again. I could see the disappointment in her eyes, and it grieved me. They all had the same look, as they watched The Rescuer depart.
"I am so sorry Patsy," I said in a whisper. "But you are a little dog, and everyone loves little dogs. I am convinced you will be rescued soon." Patsy's brown eyes twinkled at me, a little bit of hope returning.
I had heard and seen enough. I needed to tell people how it was for these unfortunate creatures. They were all here through no fault of their own. I stood to leave. I passed by many other dogs I did not interview, looking at each one, wishing I could take them all home with me and give them the love they deserved. I stood by the door taking one last glance back, when it opened, and one of the pound workers came in. His face was drawn and sad. He walked by without a word, and stopped at Pete's kennel. I heard him take a deep breath, then he paused, and opened the kennel door.
The words were muffled, but I am sure I heard him say "I'm sorry old boy."
He came out, with Petey in tow. The old dog's head hung down in resignation, and they both disappeared behind the big steel door.
Visit To The Pound: Part 2
It had been two weeks since I visited the local dog pound and its denizen. The story, not surprisingly, had attracted a lot of attention from rescue groups in the area. They were pleased someone from the city paper had taken the time to write a story on why dogs end up in the pound. It was hoped it might raise some awareness.
I found my mind wandering back to that sad place time and again. I wondered how feisty little Patsy was, and if she had been adopted yet. I also worried for Popper, the young Border Collie. I was deeply troubled in my spirit.
As I sat staring blankly at my computer screen, trying to concentrate on another story, I felt the familiar warmth of a little chin resting on my knee.
"Hi Sweetie." I stroked the soft fur of my own dog, Sophie. She always knew when I was upset. They all seem to just know. There was then a gentle nudge of my arm on the opposite side as my other dog, Banner, vied for my affections. Border Collies, both of them.
"I have to go back," I said, looking into Sophie's intelligent eyes. "I have to know."
Return to the Pound
Once again, I found myself in that foul smelling kennel area. No matter how many times you clean a place like this, the stench is always there. It must be hell for dogs, having such a keen sense of smell.
Pete's old kennel had a new tenant, some sort of Labrador mix. She was black with small white markings on her chest and paws. There was a food dish in the corner, the kibble untouched by the look of it. She lay on her side, whining. I could see she had recently had pups by the swollen teats. Poor girl.
I moved past the Lab, to Spartan's old kennel. Empty. Good. I held my breath as I approached Popper's kennel, hoping beyond hope that he had been adopted. I was not prepared for what I saw. This once proud, handsome young Border Collie was now a quivering mass in the corner of his kennel. He glanced up at me briefly, a flicker of recognition in his eyes, then he began to cough violently. His tail was tucked tightly between his shaking legs.
"Oh Popper!" I cried. "What has happened to you?" Popper simply cowered into the corner, shrinking away from my voice.
"It's his breed," a familiar voice spoke from behind. "They're too sensitive. The noise and smells drive them crazy. Intelligent fellows like him can't take the long hours of boredom and lack of companionship." I turned around to see my little friend Patsy, the Jack Russell Terrier. I peered through her kennel gate.
"Ah Patsy," I shook my head. "I had hoped you would have found a nice home."
"I did," Patsy replied. "Well, at least I thought I did. The day you came here, someone came in and chose me. It turned out the same…another person who wanted a cute little dog, but not the work it takes to keep them happy. She brought me back just three days later, tired of my constant playing and running about, bouncing off the furniture." Patsy stood on her hind legs, resting her little paws on the gate. "But guess what? A man and a little girl came here yesterday, they smelled VERY good too! They petted me, and played with me. Then they threw a ball for me. I brought it right back to them like a good dog!" Patsy was becoming very excited. Her stubby little tail wagged rapidly back and forth, making me grin. "They kept talking about something called flyball! The man said they were going to go talk to someone named Mom, and maybe they would come back."
I smiled. Maybe they would come back. In the meantime, I had some questions for Patsy. "What has happened in here since my last visit?" She dropped back down onto her haunches, and became sullen.
"I hate this place," she said. "That Lab down there?" I nodded. "Well, she came in with ten puppies. Someone just dumped them all like garbage at the front door. That was last week. Five days ago, some of her young became very, very ill. I remember smelling the sickness…the smell of blood. The workers came in, they called the sickness Parvo. They were very agitated. Six of her young died, the other four went behind the steel door." Patsy shuddered. "She has been mourning since, and will not eat."
"Lord have mercy," I whispered.
"That's not all," she said. "The disease has run through the kennel, and others have gone behind the steel door. I suppose I was lucky, I was vaccinated. So was Popper, but he has The Cough." As if on cue, Popper once again was seized by a coughing fit behind us.
"I have to get out of here," Patsy wailed. "I am so frightened!" Once again I was questioning the logic of my return to this God forsaken place.
"Oh Patsy," I opened the door to her kennel and picked her up in my arms, cuddling her close. I could feel her trembling.
"You smell different," she said suddenly stopping and sniffing me. "You…smell…like one of…THEM."
"Them?" I asked.
"A Rescuer!" she sniffed me once more, her little tail wagging rapidly. Just then, the door to the kennel room opened, and a pound worker and a man with a little girl came in. The little girl rushed toward Patsy's kennel, but stopped abruptly when she saw me holding her.
"Oh no!" she wailed. "You aren't taking my dog are you?" I quickly put Patsy into her waiting arms, and said "No young lady, she is all yours! But take very good care of her, she is one special little dog."
"Yay! Daddy look!" she squealed as Patsy planted little dog kisses all over her cheeks. "Daddy, is she really mine?"
"Yes Honey, she is really yours," her father beamed. The worker instructed them to be sure to bleach the bottoms of their shoes as they left, and I saw a brilliant sparkle in Patsy's eyes as she looked at me over the shoulder of her new little master. This time, I was certain, it would be okay…at least for this one little dog.
As I left the building, and the many sad and despairing dogs it held, I could not help but wonder how anyone with a heart could abandon their beloved and devoted pet. Ignorance and selfishness are the cause of so much grief. These amazing animals give humans their whole hearts. They serve them, protect them, and give them unconditional love regardless of how they are treated. Their capacity for forgiveness is something I will never comprehend…and yet they are so often treated like trash by the very ones they trust. Their loyalty is repaid with blind indifference.
Opening the door to my car, I wiped a tear from my cheek, and looked down. " Patsy isn't the only dog who will find out what flyball is, right Popper?" Popper looked up at me, a glimmer of hope returning to his glazed eyes, his tail wagging slightly between his legs. I knelt down, cupped his sweet little face in my hands, and looked him in the eyes.
"It's off to the vet with you, and then when you are well, you are going to meet your new brother and sister."
I found my mind wandering back to that sad place time and again. I wondered how feisty little Patsy was, and if she had been adopted yet. I also worried for Popper, the young Border Collie. I was deeply troubled in my spirit.
As I sat staring blankly at my computer screen, trying to concentrate on another story, I felt the familiar warmth of a little chin resting on my knee.
"Hi Sweetie." I stroked the soft fur of my own dog, Sophie. She always knew when I was upset. They all seem to just know. There was then a gentle nudge of my arm on the opposite side as my other dog, Banner, vied for my affections. Border Collies, both of them.
"I have to go back," I said, looking into Sophie's intelligent eyes. "I have to know."
Return to the Pound
Once again, I found myself in that foul smelling kennel area. No matter how many times you clean a place like this, the stench is always there. It must be hell for dogs, having such a keen sense of smell.
Pete's old kennel had a new tenant, some sort of Labrador mix. She was black with small white markings on her chest and paws. There was a food dish in the corner, the kibble untouched by the look of it. She lay on her side, whining. I could see she had recently had pups by the swollen teats. Poor girl.
I moved past the Lab, to Spartan's old kennel. Empty. Good. I held my breath as I approached Popper's kennel, hoping beyond hope that he had been adopted. I was not prepared for what I saw. This once proud, handsome young Border Collie was now a quivering mass in the corner of his kennel. He glanced up at me briefly, a flicker of recognition in his eyes, then he began to cough violently. His tail was tucked tightly between his shaking legs.
"Oh Popper!" I cried. "What has happened to you?" Popper simply cowered into the corner, shrinking away from my voice.
"It's his breed," a familiar voice spoke from behind. "They're too sensitive. The noise and smells drive them crazy. Intelligent fellows like him can't take the long hours of boredom and lack of companionship." I turned around to see my little friend Patsy, the Jack Russell Terrier. I peered through her kennel gate.
"Ah Patsy," I shook my head. "I had hoped you would have found a nice home."
"I did," Patsy replied. "Well, at least I thought I did. The day you came here, someone came in and chose me. It turned out the same…another person who wanted a cute little dog, but not the work it takes to keep them happy. She brought me back just three days later, tired of my constant playing and running about, bouncing off the furniture." Patsy stood on her hind legs, resting her little paws on the gate. "But guess what? A man and a little girl came here yesterday, they smelled VERY good too! They petted me, and played with me. Then they threw a ball for me. I brought it right back to them like a good dog!" Patsy was becoming very excited. Her stubby little tail wagged rapidly back and forth, making me grin. "They kept talking about something called flyball! The man said they were going to go talk to someone named Mom, and maybe they would come back."
I smiled. Maybe they would come back. In the meantime, I had some questions for Patsy. "What has happened in here since my last visit?" She dropped back down onto her haunches, and became sullen.
"I hate this place," she said. "That Lab down there?" I nodded. "Well, she came in with ten puppies. Someone just dumped them all like garbage at the front door. That was last week. Five days ago, some of her young became very, very ill. I remember smelling the sickness…the smell of blood. The workers came in, they called the sickness Parvo. They were very agitated. Six of her young died, the other four went behind the steel door." Patsy shuddered. "She has been mourning since, and will not eat."
"Lord have mercy," I whispered.
"That's not all," she said. "The disease has run through the kennel, and others have gone behind the steel door. I suppose I was lucky, I was vaccinated. So was Popper, but he has The Cough." As if on cue, Popper once again was seized by a coughing fit behind us.
"I have to get out of here," Patsy wailed. "I am so frightened!" Once again I was questioning the logic of my return to this God forsaken place.
"Oh Patsy," I opened the door to her kennel and picked her up in my arms, cuddling her close. I could feel her trembling.
"You smell different," she said suddenly stopping and sniffing me. "You…smell…like one of…THEM."
"Them?" I asked.
"A Rescuer!" she sniffed me once more, her little tail wagging rapidly. Just then, the door to the kennel room opened, and a pound worker and a man with a little girl came in. The little girl rushed toward Patsy's kennel, but stopped abruptly when she saw me holding her.
"Oh no!" she wailed. "You aren't taking my dog are you?" I quickly put Patsy into her waiting arms, and said "No young lady, she is all yours! But take very good care of her, she is one special little dog."
"Yay! Daddy look!" she squealed as Patsy planted little dog kisses all over her cheeks. "Daddy, is she really mine?"
"Yes Honey, she is really yours," her father beamed. The worker instructed them to be sure to bleach the bottoms of their shoes as they left, and I saw a brilliant sparkle in Patsy's eyes as she looked at me over the shoulder of her new little master. This time, I was certain, it would be okay…at least for this one little dog.
As I left the building, and the many sad and despairing dogs it held, I could not help but wonder how anyone with a heart could abandon their beloved and devoted pet. Ignorance and selfishness are the cause of so much grief. These amazing animals give humans their whole hearts. They serve them, protect them, and give them unconditional love regardless of how they are treated. Their capacity for forgiveness is something I will never comprehend…and yet they are so often treated like trash by the very ones they trust. Their loyalty is repaid with blind indifference.
Opening the door to my car, I wiped a tear from my cheek, and looked down. " Patsy isn't the only dog who will find out what flyball is, right Popper?" Popper looked up at me, a glimmer of hope returning to his glazed eyes, his tail wagging slightly between his legs. I knelt down, cupped his sweet little face in my hands, and looked him in the eyes.
"It's off to the vet with you, and then when you are well, you are going to meet your new brother and sister."
Puppies For Sale
A farmer had some puppies he needed to sell. He painted a sign advertising the 4 pups. And set about nailing it to a post on the edge of his yard. As he was driving the last nail into the post, he felt a tug on his overalls. He looked down into the eyes of little boy.
'Mister,' he said, 'I want to buy one of your puppies.'
'Well,' said the farmer,
as he rubbed the sweat off the back of his neck, 'These puppies come from fine parents and cost a good deal of money.'
The boy dropped his head for a moment.
Then reaching deep into his pocket,
he pulled out a handful of change
and held it up to the farmer.
'I've got thirty-nine cents.
Is that enough to take a look?''Sure,' said the farmer.
And with that he let out a whistle.
'Here, Dolly!' he called .
Out from the doghouse and down the ramp ran Dolly followed by four little balls of fur.
The little boy pressed his face against the chain link fence. His eyes danced with delight.
As the dogs made their way to the fence,
the little boy noticed something else stirring inside the doghouse.
Slowly another little ball appeared, this one noticeably smaller. Down the ramp it slid. Then in a somewhat awkward manner, the little pup began hobbling toward the others, doing its best to catch up....
'I want that one,' the little boy said, pointing to the runt. The farmer knelt down at the boy's side and said, ' Son, you don't want that puppy. He will never be able to run and play with you like these other dogs would.'
With that the little boy stepped back from the fence, reached down, and began rolling up one leg of his trousers.
In doing so he revealed a steel brace running down both sides of his leg attaching itself to a specially made shoe.
Looking back up at the farmer, he said,
'You see sir, I don't run too well myself ,
and he will need someone who understands.'
With tears in his eyes, the farmer reached down and picked up the little pup. Holding it carefully handed it to the little boy. 'How much?' asked the little boy. 'No charge,' answered the farmer, 'There's no charge for love.'
'Mister,' he said, 'I want to buy one of your puppies.'
'Well,' said the farmer,
as he rubbed the sweat off the back of his neck, 'These puppies come from fine parents and cost a good deal of money.'
The boy dropped his head for a moment.
Then reaching deep into his pocket,
he pulled out a handful of change
and held it up to the farmer.
'I've got thirty-nine cents.
Is that enough to take a look?''Sure,' said the farmer.
And with that he let out a whistle.
'Here, Dolly!' he called .
Out from the doghouse and down the ramp ran Dolly followed by four little balls of fur.
The little boy pressed his face against the chain link fence. His eyes danced with delight.
As the dogs made their way to the fence,
the little boy noticed something else stirring inside the doghouse.
Slowly another little ball appeared, this one noticeably smaller. Down the ramp it slid. Then in a somewhat awkward manner, the little pup began hobbling toward the others, doing its best to catch up....
'I want that one,' the little boy said, pointing to the runt. The farmer knelt down at the boy's side and said, ' Son, you don't want that puppy. He will never be able to run and play with you like these other dogs would.'
With that the little boy stepped back from the fence, reached down, and began rolling up one leg of his trousers.
In doing so he revealed a steel brace running down both sides of his leg attaching itself to a specially made shoe.
Looking back up at the farmer, he said,
'You see sir, I don't run too well myself ,
and he will need someone who understands.'
With tears in his eyes, the farmer reached down and picked up the little pup. Holding it carefully handed it to the little boy. 'How much?' asked the little boy. 'No charge,' answered the farmer, 'There's no charge for love.'
A dog sits waiting
A dog sits waiting
in the cold autumn sun.
Too faithful to leave,
too frightened to run.
He's been here for days,
with nothing else to do.
But sit by the road,
still waiting for you.
He can't understand why
you left him alone that day.
He thought you and he
were stopping awhile to play.
He's sure you'll come back,
and that's why he stays.
How long will he suffer?
How many more days?
His legs have grown weak,
his throat's parched and dry.
He's sick now from hunger
and falls, with a sigh.
He lays down his head
and closes his weary eyes.
I wish you could see now,
how a waiting dog dies.
in the cold autumn sun.
Too faithful to leave,
too frightened to run.
He's been here for days,
with nothing else to do.
But sit by the road,
still waiting for you.
He can't understand why
you left him alone that day.
He thought you and he
were stopping awhile to play.
He's sure you'll come back,
and that's why he stays.
How long will he suffer?
How many more days?
His legs have grown weak,
his throat's parched and dry.
He's sick now from hunger
and falls, with a sigh.
He lays down his head
and closes his weary eyes.
I wish you could see now,
how a waiting dog dies.
A DOG'S PRAYER
By Beth Norman Harris
Treat me kindly, my beloved master, for no heart in all the world is more grateful for kindness than the loving heart of me.
Do not break my spirit with a stick, for though I should lick your hand between the blows, your patience and understanding will more quickly teach me the things you would have me do.
Speak to me often, for your voice is the world's sweetest music, as you must know by the fierce wagging of my tail when your footsteps falls upon my waiting ear.
When it is cold and wet, please take me inside, for I am now a domesticated animal, no longer used to bitter elements. And I ask no greater glory than the privilege of sitting at your feet beside the hearth. Though had you no home, I would rather follow you through ice and snow than rest upon the softest pillow in the warmest home in all the land, for you are my god and I am your devoted worshiper.
Keep my pan filled with fresh water, for although I should not reproach you were it dry, I cannot tell you when I suffer thirst. Feed me clean food, that I may stay well, to romp and play and do your bidding, to walk by your side, and stand ready, willing and able to protect you with my life should your life be in danger.
And, beloved master, should the great Master see fit to deprive me of my health, do not turn me away from you. Rather hold me gently in your arms as skilled hands grant me the merciful boon of eternal rest--and I will leave you knowing with the last breath I drew, my fate was ever safest in your hands.
Treat me kindly, my beloved master, for no heart in all the world is more grateful for kindness than the loving heart of me.
Do not break my spirit with a stick, for though I should lick your hand between the blows, your patience and understanding will more quickly teach me the things you would have me do.
Speak to me often, for your voice is the world's sweetest music, as you must know by the fierce wagging of my tail when your footsteps falls upon my waiting ear.
When it is cold and wet, please take me inside, for I am now a domesticated animal, no longer used to bitter elements. And I ask no greater glory than the privilege of sitting at your feet beside the hearth. Though had you no home, I would rather follow you through ice and snow than rest upon the softest pillow in the warmest home in all the land, for you are my god and I am your devoted worshiper.
Keep my pan filled with fresh water, for although I should not reproach you were it dry, I cannot tell you when I suffer thirst. Feed me clean food, that I may stay well, to romp and play and do your bidding, to walk by your side, and stand ready, willing and able to protect you with my life should your life be in danger.
And, beloved master, should the great Master see fit to deprive me of my health, do not turn me away from you. Rather hold me gently in your arms as skilled hands grant me the merciful boon of eternal rest--and I will leave you knowing with the last breath I drew, my fate was ever safest in your hands.
A Rescuer's Answering Machine Message
Hello, You have reached 123-4567, Tender Hearts Rescue. Due to the
high volume of calls we have been receiving, please listen closely
to the following options and choose the one that best describes you or
your situation:
Press 1 if you think we are veterinarians and want free medical
advice.
Press 2 if you know we are a rescue organization but want to save
money and have us give you free, untrained medical advice anyway.
Press 3 if you make $200,000 a year but still want us to pay to spay
the "stray" in your yard (house).
Press 4 if you have a 10-year-old dog and your 15-year-old son has
suddenly become allergic and you need to find the dog a new home
right away.
Press 5 if you have three dogs, had a baby and want to get rid of
your dogs because you are the only person in the world to have a
baby and dogs at the same time.
Press 6 if your dog is sick and needs a vet but you need the money
for your vacation.
Press 7 if you just got a brand new puppy and your old dog is having
problems adjusting so you want to get rid of the old one right away.
Press 8 if your little puppy has grown up and is no longer small and
cute and you want to trade it in for a new model.
Press 9 if you are elderly and want to adopt a cute puppy who is not
active and is going to outlive you.
Press 10 if your relative has died and you don't want to care for
their elderly dog because it doesn't fit your lifestyle.
Press 11 if you are moving today and need to immediately place your
150 pound, 8-year-old, unneutured, aggressive dog.
Press 12 if you want an unpaid volunteer to come to your home today
and pick up the dog you no longer want.
Press 13 if you have been feeding and caring for a "stray" for the
last three years, are moving and suddenly determine it's not your
dog.
Press 14 if you are calling at 6 a.m. to make sure you wake me up
before I have to go to work so you can drop a dog off on your way to
work.
Press 15 to leave us an anonymous garbled message, letting us know
you have left a dog in our yard in the middle of January, which is
in fact, better than just leaving the dog with no message.
Press 16 if you are going to get angry because we are not going to
take your dog that you have had for fifteen years, because it is not
our responsibility.
Press 17 if you are going to threaten to take your ten year old dog
to be euthanized because we can't get to your house in the next
hour.
Press 18 if you're going to get angry because the volunteers had the
audacity to go on vacation and leave the dogs in care of a trusted
volunteer who is not authorized to take your personal pet.
Press 19 if you want one of our perfectly trained, housebroken, kid
and cat friendly purebred tiny dogs that we have an abundance of.
Press 20 if you want us to take your dog that has a slight
aggression problem, i.e. has only bitten a few people and killed your
neighbor's cats.
Press 21 if you have already called once and been told we don't take
personal surrenders but thought you would get a different person
this time with a different answer.
Press 22 if you want us to use space that would go to a stray to
board your personal dog while you are on vacation, free of charge,
of course.
Press 23 if it is Christmas Eve or Easter morning and you want me to
deliver an eight week old puppy to your house by 6:30 am before your
kids wake up.
Press 24 if you have bought your children a duckling, chick or baby
bunny for Easter and it is now Christmas and no longer cute.
Press 25 if you want us to take your female dog who has already had
ten litters, but we can't spay her because she is pregnant again and
it is against your religion.
Press 26 if you're lying to make one of our younger volunteers feel
bad and take your personal pet off your hands.
Press 27 if your cat is biting and not using the litter box because
it is declawed, but are not willing to accept the responsibility
that the cat's behavior is altered because of your nice furniture.
Press 28 if your two year old male dog is marking all over your
house but you just haven't gotten around to having him neutered.
Press 29 if you previously had an outdoor only dog and are calling
because she is suddenly pregnant.
Press 30 if you have done "everything" to housebreak your dog and
have had no success but you don't want to crate the dog because it
is cruel.
Press 31 if you didn't listen to the message asking for an evening
phone number and you left your work number when all volunteers are
also working and you are angry because no one called you back.
Press 32 if you need a puppy immediately and cannot wait because
today is your daughter's birthday and you forgot when she was born.
Press 33 if your dog's coat doesn't match your new furniture and you
need a different color or breed.
Press 34 if your new love doesn't like your dog and you are too
stupid to get rid of the new friend (who will dump you in the next
month anyway) instead of the dog.
Press 35 if you went through all these 'presses' and didn't hear
enough. This press will connect you to the sounds of tears being
shed by one of our volunteers who is holding a discarded old dog while
the vet mercifully frees him from the grief of missing his family.
high volume of calls we have been receiving, please listen closely
to the following options and choose the one that best describes you or
your situation:
Press 1 if you think we are veterinarians and want free medical
advice.
Press 2 if you know we are a rescue organization but want to save
money and have us give you free, untrained medical advice anyway.
Press 3 if you make $200,000 a year but still want us to pay to spay
the "stray" in your yard (house).
Press 4 if you have a 10-year-old dog and your 15-year-old son has
suddenly become allergic and you need to find the dog a new home
right away.
Press 5 if you have three dogs, had a baby and want to get rid of
your dogs because you are the only person in the world to have a
baby and dogs at the same time.
Press 6 if your dog is sick and needs a vet but you need the money
for your vacation.
Press 7 if you just got a brand new puppy and your old dog is having
problems adjusting so you want to get rid of the old one right away.
Press 8 if your little puppy has grown up and is no longer small and
cute and you want to trade it in for a new model.
Press 9 if you are elderly and want to adopt a cute puppy who is not
active and is going to outlive you.
Press 10 if your relative has died and you don't want to care for
their elderly dog because it doesn't fit your lifestyle.
Press 11 if you are moving today and need to immediately place your
150 pound, 8-year-old, unneutured, aggressive dog.
Press 12 if you want an unpaid volunteer to come to your home today
and pick up the dog you no longer want.
Press 13 if you have been feeding and caring for a "stray" for the
last three years, are moving and suddenly determine it's not your
dog.
Press 14 if you are calling at 6 a.m. to make sure you wake me up
before I have to go to work so you can drop a dog off on your way to
work.
Press 15 to leave us an anonymous garbled message, letting us know
you have left a dog in our yard in the middle of January, which is
in fact, better than just leaving the dog with no message.
Press 16 if you are going to get angry because we are not going to
take your dog that you have had for fifteen years, because it is not
our responsibility.
Press 17 if you are going to threaten to take your ten year old dog
to be euthanized because we can't get to your house in the next
hour.
Press 18 if you're going to get angry because the volunteers had the
audacity to go on vacation and leave the dogs in care of a trusted
volunteer who is not authorized to take your personal pet.
Press 19 if you want one of our perfectly trained, housebroken, kid
and cat friendly purebred tiny dogs that we have an abundance of.
Press 20 if you want us to take your dog that has a slight
aggression problem, i.e. has only bitten a few people and killed your
neighbor's cats.
Press 21 if you have already called once and been told we don't take
personal surrenders but thought you would get a different person
this time with a different answer.
Press 22 if you want us to use space that would go to a stray to
board your personal dog while you are on vacation, free of charge,
of course.
Press 23 if it is Christmas Eve or Easter morning and you want me to
deliver an eight week old puppy to your house by 6:30 am before your
kids wake up.
Press 24 if you have bought your children a duckling, chick or baby
bunny for Easter and it is now Christmas and no longer cute.
Press 25 if you want us to take your female dog who has already had
ten litters, but we can't spay her because she is pregnant again and
it is against your religion.
Press 26 if you're lying to make one of our younger volunteers feel
bad and take your personal pet off your hands.
Press 27 if your cat is biting and not using the litter box because
it is declawed, but are not willing to accept the responsibility
that the cat's behavior is altered because of your nice furniture.
Press 28 if your two year old male dog is marking all over your
house but you just haven't gotten around to having him neutered.
Press 29 if you previously had an outdoor only dog and are calling
because she is suddenly pregnant.
Press 30 if you have done "everything" to housebreak your dog and
have had no success but you don't want to crate the dog because it
is cruel.
Press 31 if you didn't listen to the message asking for an evening
phone number and you left your work number when all volunteers are
also working and you are angry because no one called you back.
Press 32 if you need a puppy immediately and cannot wait because
today is your daughter's birthday and you forgot when she was born.
Press 33 if your dog's coat doesn't match your new furniture and you
need a different color or breed.
Press 34 if your new love doesn't like your dog and you are too
stupid to get rid of the new friend (who will dump you in the next
month anyway) instead of the dog.
Press 35 if you went through all these 'presses' and didn't hear
enough. This press will connect you to the sounds of tears being
shed by one of our volunteers who is holding a discarded old dog while
the vet mercifully frees him from the grief of missing his family.
Alone Again
I wish someone would tell me
what it is that I've done wrong.
Why I have to stay chained up
and left alone so long.
They seemed so glad to have one
when I came here as a pup.
There were so many things we'd do
while I was growing up.
They couldn't wait to train me
as a companion and a friend.
And told me how they'd never fear
being left alone again.
The children said they'd feed me
and brush me everyday.
They'd play with me and walk me,
if only I could stay.
But now the Family "Hasn't Time";
they say I often shed.
They do not want me in the house
not even to be fed.
The children never walk me,
they always say "Not Now!"
I wish that I could please them;
won't someone tell me how?
All I had, you see, was love;
I wish they would explain.
Why they said they wanted me,
then left me on a chain!!!
what it is that I've done wrong.
Why I have to stay chained up
and left alone so long.
They seemed so glad to have one
when I came here as a pup.
There were so many things we'd do
while I was growing up.
They couldn't wait to train me
as a companion and a friend.
And told me how they'd never fear
being left alone again.
The children said they'd feed me
and brush me everyday.
They'd play with me and walk me,
if only I could stay.
But now the Family "Hasn't Time";
they say I often shed.
They do not want me in the house
not even to be fed.
The children never walk me,
they always say "Not Now!"
I wish that I could please them;
won't someone tell me how?
All I had, you see, was love;
I wish they would explain.
Why they said they wanted me,
then left me on a chain!!!
Bandit
Listless, and lying,
Fur matted and dull
"Bandit" lay crying,
Heart shattered, a shell.
Left in his cage,
All day and all night,
His life was such
That more food gave a fright!
His water was empty
Food bowl overturned
He filt kinda dizzy,
His stomach still churned.
Once he was loved
A long time ago
Felt young hands stroking,
That maded his heart glow!
Now he felt nothing,
No more was life fun.
His heart was empty
Now he had no-one.
His cage had felt big,
For it was just a bed.
No runs in the house now,
He may as well be dead.
He watched as his 'owner'
Walked past to the van,
Now left in the garage,
He rarely saw 'man.'
He slept all the time,
No toys in the cage.
If he'd had the heart,
He would be enraged!
Bandit lay crying,
Spine clearly shown,
Bandit lay dying,
His life overthrown.
One day he was taken.
Moved out of his cell,
He was badly shaken,
Now in for more ****!
Jaws latched on tight
A reaction of fear,
A hand gently stroked,
Too late now to care.
In his new cage,
Belly now tight,
Bandit's short life
Ended that night.
He died with some comfort,
Soft bedding and food
His water now filled,
(So much it was lewd!)
Bandit died knowing
That someone did care
Died with a heart
Full of love that was shared.
Fur matted and dull
"Bandit" lay crying,
Heart shattered, a shell.
Left in his cage,
All day and all night,
His life was such
That more food gave a fright!
His water was empty
Food bowl overturned
He filt kinda dizzy,
His stomach still churned.
Once he was loved
A long time ago
Felt young hands stroking,
That maded his heart glow!
Now he felt nothing,
No more was life fun.
His heart was empty
Now he had no-one.
His cage had felt big,
For it was just a bed.
No runs in the house now,
He may as well be dead.
He watched as his 'owner'
Walked past to the van,
Now left in the garage,
He rarely saw 'man.'
He slept all the time,
No toys in the cage.
If he'd had the heart,
He would be enraged!
Bandit lay crying,
Spine clearly shown,
Bandit lay dying,
His life overthrown.
One day he was taken.
Moved out of his cell,
He was badly shaken,
Now in for more ****!
Jaws latched on tight
A reaction of fear,
A hand gently stroked,
Too late now to care.
In his new cage,
Belly now tight,
Bandit's short life
Ended that night.
He died with some comfort,
Soft bedding and food
His water now filled,
(So much it was lewd!)
Bandit died knowing
That someone did care
Died with a heart
Full of love that was shared.
Bet You Can't Own Just One!
Why own a dog? There's danger you know
You can't own just one, the craving will grow
There's no doubt they're addictive, wherein lies the danger
While living with lots, you'll grow poorer and stranger.
One dog is so funny, and two are no trouble
The third one is easy, the fourth one's a honey
The fifth's delightful, the sixth one's a breeze,
You find you can live with a house full with ease.
So how 'bout another? Would you really dare?
They're really quite easy, but Lord, the hair.
With dogs on the sofa, and dogs on the bed,
And crates in the kitchen, It's no bother, you've said,
They're really no trouble, their manners are great,
What's just one more dog, and one more crate?
The sofa is hairy, the windows are crusty,
The floor is all footprints, the furniture is dusty,
The housekeeping suffers, but what do you care?
Who minds a few nose prints, and a little more hair?
So let's keep a puppy, you can always find room,
And a little more time for the dust cloth and broom,
There's hardly a limit to the dogs you can add,
The thought of a cutback sure makes you sad.
Each one is so special, so useful, so funny,
The vet, the food bills grow larger, you owe money,
Your folks never visit, few friends come to stay,
Except other dog folks, who live the same way.
Your lawn has now died, and your shrubs are dead too,
But your weekends are busy, you're off with your crew,
There's dog food and vitamins, and training and shots,
And entries and motels which cost lots.
Is it worth it you wonder? Are you caught in a trap?
Then your favorite dog comes and climbs in your lap,
His look says your special, and you know that you will
Keep all of the critters, in spite of the bill.
You can't own just one, the craving will grow
There's no doubt they're addictive, wherein lies the danger
While living with lots, you'll grow poorer and stranger.
One dog is so funny, and two are no trouble
The third one is easy, the fourth one's a honey
The fifth's delightful, the sixth one's a breeze,
You find you can live with a house full with ease.
So how 'bout another? Would you really dare?
They're really quite easy, but Lord, the hair.
With dogs on the sofa, and dogs on the bed,
And crates in the kitchen, It's no bother, you've said,
They're really no trouble, their manners are great,
What's just one more dog, and one more crate?
The sofa is hairy, the windows are crusty,
The floor is all footprints, the furniture is dusty,
The housekeeping suffers, but what do you care?
Who minds a few nose prints, and a little more hair?
So let's keep a puppy, you can always find room,
And a little more time for the dust cloth and broom,
There's hardly a limit to the dogs you can add,
The thought of a cutback sure makes you sad.
Each one is so special, so useful, so funny,
The vet, the food bills grow larger, you owe money,
Your folks never visit, few friends come to stay,
Except other dog folks, who live the same way.
Your lawn has now died, and your shrubs are dead too,
But your weekends are busy, you're off with your crew,
There's dog food and vitamins, and training and shots,
And entries and motels which cost lots.
Is it worth it you wonder? Are you caught in a trap?
Then your favorite dog comes and climbs in your lap,
His look says your special, and you know that you will
Keep all of the critters, in spite of the bill.
Dear Mom and Dad
I died today. You got tired of me and took me to the shelter. They were overcrowded and I drew an unlucky number. I am in a black plastic bag in a landfill now. Some other puppy will get the barely used leash you left. My collar was dirty and too small, but the lady took it off before she sent me to the Rainbow Bridge.
Would I still be at home if I hadn't chewed your shoe? I didn't know what it was, but it was leather, and it was on the floor. I was just playing. You forgot to get puppy toys.
Would I still be at home if I had been housebroken? Rubbing my nose in what I did only made me ashamed that I had to go at all. There are books and obedience teachers that would have taught you how to teach me to go to the door.
Would I still be at home if I hadn't brought fleas into the house? Without anti-flea medicine, I couldn't get them off of me after you left me in the yard for days.
Would I still be at home if I hadn't barked? I was only saying, "I'm scared, I'm lonely, I'm here, I'm here! I want to be your best friend."
Would I still be at home if I had made you happy? Hitting me didn't make me learn how.
Would I still be at home if you had taken the time to care for me and to teach manners to me? You didn't pay attention to me after the first week or so, but I spent all my time waiting for you to love me.
I died today.
Love,
Your Puppy
Would I still be at home if I hadn't chewed your shoe? I didn't know what it was, but it was leather, and it was on the floor. I was just playing. You forgot to get puppy toys.
Would I still be at home if I had been housebroken? Rubbing my nose in what I did only made me ashamed that I had to go at all. There are books and obedience teachers that would have taught you how to teach me to go to the door.
Would I still be at home if I hadn't brought fleas into the house? Without anti-flea medicine, I couldn't get them off of me after you left me in the yard for days.
Would I still be at home if I hadn't barked? I was only saying, "I'm scared, I'm lonely, I'm here, I'm here! I want to be your best friend."
Would I still be at home if I had made you happy? Hitting me didn't make me learn how.
Would I still be at home if you had taken the time to care for me and to teach manners to me? You didn't pay attention to me after the first week or so, but I spent all my time waiting for you to love me.
I died today.
Love,
Your Puppy
DO I GO HOME TODAY?
My family brought me home cradled in their arms.
They cuddled me and smiled at me and said I was full of charm.
They played with me and laughed with me and showered me with toys.
I sure do love my family, especially the girls and boys.
The children loved to feed me, they gave me special treats.
They even let me sleep with them - all snuggled in the sheets.
I used to go for walks, often several times a day.
They even fought to hold the leash, I'm very proud to say.
These are the things I'll not forget - cherished memory,
because I now live in the shelter - without my family.
They used to laugh and praise me when I played with that old shoe.
But I didn't know the difference between the old ones and the new.
The kids and I would grab a rag, for hours we would tug.
So I thought I did the right thing when I chewed the bedroom rug.
They said that I was out of control, and would have to live outside.
This I did not understand, although I tried and tried.
The walks stopped, one by one; they said they hadn't time.
I wish that I could change things, I wish I knew my crime.
My life became so lonely, in the back yard, on a chain.
I barked and barked, all day long, just to keep from going insane.
So they brought me to the shelter, but were embarrassed to say why.
They said I caused an allergy, then they each kissed me goodbye.
If I'd only had some classes, when I was just a little pup,
then I would have been a better dog when I was all grown up.
"You only have one day left." I heard the worker say.
Does that mean I have a second chance?
DO I GO HOME TODAY?
They cuddled me and smiled at me and said I was full of charm.
They played with me and laughed with me and showered me with toys.
I sure do love my family, especially the girls and boys.
The children loved to feed me, they gave me special treats.
They even let me sleep with them - all snuggled in the sheets.
I used to go for walks, often several times a day.
They even fought to hold the leash, I'm very proud to say.
These are the things I'll not forget - cherished memory,
because I now live in the shelter - without my family.
They used to laugh and praise me when I played with that old shoe.
But I didn't know the difference between the old ones and the new.
The kids and I would grab a rag, for hours we would tug.
So I thought I did the right thing when I chewed the bedroom rug.
They said that I was out of control, and would have to live outside.
This I did not understand, although I tried and tried.
The walks stopped, one by one; they said they hadn't time.
I wish that I could change things, I wish I knew my crime.
My life became so lonely, in the back yard, on a chain.
I barked and barked, all day long, just to keep from going insane.
So they brought me to the shelter, but were embarrassed to say why.
They said I caused an allergy, then they each kissed me goodbye.
If I'd only had some classes, when I was just a little pup,
then I would have been a better dog when I was all grown up.
"You only have one day left." I heard the worker say.
Does that mean I have a second chance?
DO I GO HOME TODAY?
How could you
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 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.
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.
How Didn’t They Know?
When Billy was 6
One fine Easter day,
He received a gift
With which he could play.
It was a sweet little bunny
With hair to the floor.
What could have happened
When it was found dead by the door?
Accidental, they said.
Billy’s just a child.
He just played too rough.
He got a little bit wild.
When Billy was 10
At a neighbor’s house,
He poured some bleach
On a friendly pet mouse.
Boys will be boys
Is what they said.
Be careful, they added
As they patted his head.
When Billy turned 12
They found some deep cuts
On the face and the neck
Of the sweet family mutt.
No harm was done.
The dog’s not hurt bad.
He didn’t mean to do it.
He truly feels sad.
When Billy was 16,
He took a gun to school.
He fired upon them
While calling them fools.
When Billy was finished
Having his fun,
He smiled at his carnage
And lay down his gun.
The town went on weeping
All through the trial.
He showed no remorse.
He showed not a smile.
What happened, they asked,
To a boy so fine?
How could it be
He showed not a sign?
What about me?
Said the ghost of the long dead mouse?
And I the rabbit
Who was found dead in his house?
And the elderly dog
With scars that still showed
Softly whined and wondered,
HOW DIDN’T THEY KNOW?
One fine Easter day,
He received a gift
With which he could play.
It was a sweet little bunny
With hair to the floor.
What could have happened
When it was found dead by the door?
Accidental, they said.
Billy’s just a child.
He just played too rough.
He got a little bit wild.
When Billy was 10
At a neighbor’s house,
He poured some bleach
On a friendly pet mouse.
Boys will be boys
Is what they said.
Be careful, they added
As they patted his head.
When Billy turned 12
They found some deep cuts
On the face and the neck
Of the sweet family mutt.
No harm was done.
The dog’s not hurt bad.
He didn’t mean to do it.
He truly feels sad.
When Billy was 16,
He took a gun to school.
He fired upon them
While calling them fools.
When Billy was finished
Having his fun,
He smiled at his carnage
And lay down his gun.
The town went on weeping
All through the trial.
He showed no remorse.
He showed not a smile.
What happened, they asked,
To a boy so fine?
How could it be
He showed not a sign?
What about me?
Said the ghost of the long dead mouse?
And I the rabbit
Who was found dead in his house?
And the elderly dog
With scars that still showed
Softly whined and wondered,
HOW DIDN’T THEY KNOW?
I Adopted Your Cat Today
I adopted your cat today.
The one you left at the pound.
The one you had for ten years
And no longer wanted around.
I adopted your cat today.
Do you know he's lost weight?
Do you know he's scared and depressed
And has lost all faith?
I adopted your cat today.
He had fleas and a cold,
But don't worry none.
You've unburdened your load.
I adopted your cat today.
Were you having a baby or moving away?
Did you suddenly develop allergies
Or was there no reason he couldn't stay?
I adopted your cat today.
He doesn't play or eat much.
He's very depressed,
But he will learn again to trust.
I adopted your cat today
And here he will stay.
He's found his forever home
And a warm bed to lie.
I adopted your cat today
And I will give him all that he could need.
Patience, love, security, and understanding.
Hopefully he will forget your selfish deed.
The one you left at the pound.
The one you had for ten years
And no longer wanted around.
I adopted your cat today.
Do you know he's lost weight?
Do you know he's scared and depressed
And has lost all faith?
I adopted your cat today.
He had fleas and a cold,
But don't worry none.
You've unburdened your load.
I adopted your cat today.
Were you having a baby or moving away?
Did you suddenly develop allergies
Or was there no reason he couldn't stay?
I adopted your cat today.
He doesn't play or eat much.
He's very depressed,
But he will learn again to trust.
I adopted your cat today
And here he will stay.
He's found his forever home
And a warm bed to lie.
I adopted your cat today
And I will give him all that he could need.
Patience, love, security, and understanding.
Hopefully he will forget your selfish deed.
I Found Your Dog Today
I found your dog today. No, he has not been adopted by anyone. Most of us who live out here own as many dogs as we want, those who do not own dogs do so because they choose not to. I know you hoped he would find a good home when you left him out here, but he did not. When I first saw him he was miles from the nearest house and he was alone, thirsty, thin and limping from a burr in his paw.
How I wish I could have been you as I stood before him. To see his tail wag and his eyes brighten as he bounded into your arms, knowing you would find him, knowing you had not forgotten him. To see the forgiveness in his eyes for the suffering and pain he had known in his never-ending quest to find you... but I was not you. And despite all my persuasion, his eyes see a stranger. He did not trust. He would not come.
He turned and continued his journey; one he was sure would bring him to you. He does not understand you are not looking for him. He only knows you are not there, he only knows he must find you. This is more important than food or water or the stranger who can give him these things.
Persuasion and pursuit seemed futile; I did not even know his name. I drove home, filled a bucket with water and a bowl with food and returned to where we had met. I could see no sign of him, but I left my offering under the tree where he had sought shelter from the sun and a chance to rest. You see, he is not of the desert. When you domesticated him, you took away any instinct of survival out here. His purpose demands that he travel during the day. He doesn't know that the sun and heat will claim his life. He only knows that he has to find you.
I waited hoping he would return to the tree; hoping my gift would build an element of trust so I might bring him home, remove the burr from his paw, give him a cool place to lie and help him understand that the part of his life with you is now over. He did not return that morning and at dusk the water and food were still there untouched. And I worried. You must understand that many people would not attempt to help your dog. Some would run him off, others would call the county and the fate you thought you saved him from would be preempted by his suffering for days without food or water.
I returned again before dark. I did not see him. I went again early the next morning only to find the food and water still untouched. If only you were here to call his name. Your voice is so familiar to him. I began pursuit in the direction he had taken yesterday, doubt overshadowing my hope of finding him. His search for you was desperate, it could take him many miles in 24 hours.
It is hours later and a good distance from where we first met, but I have found your dog. His thirst has stopped, it is no longer a torment to him. His hunger has disappeared, he no longer aches. The burrs in his paws bother him no more. Your dog has been set free from his burdens, you see, your dog has died.
I kneel next to him and I curse you for not being here yesterday so I could see the glow, if just for a moment, in those now vacant eyes. I pray that his journey has taken him to that place I think you hoped he would find.
If only you knew what he went through to reach it...and I agonize, for I know, that were he to awaken at this moment, and (if) I were to be you, his eyes would sparkle with recognition and his tail would wag with forgiveness.
How I wish I could have been you as I stood before him. To see his tail wag and his eyes brighten as he bounded into your arms, knowing you would find him, knowing you had not forgotten him. To see the forgiveness in his eyes for the suffering and pain he had known in his never-ending quest to find you... but I was not you. And despite all my persuasion, his eyes see a stranger. He did not trust. He would not come.
He turned and continued his journey; one he was sure would bring him to you. He does not understand you are not looking for him. He only knows you are not there, he only knows he must find you. This is more important than food or water or the stranger who can give him these things.
Persuasion and pursuit seemed futile; I did not even know his name. I drove home, filled a bucket with water and a bowl with food and returned to where we had met. I could see no sign of him, but I left my offering under the tree where he had sought shelter from the sun and a chance to rest. You see, he is not of the desert. When you domesticated him, you took away any instinct of survival out here. His purpose demands that he travel during the day. He doesn't know that the sun and heat will claim his life. He only knows that he has to find you.
I waited hoping he would return to the tree; hoping my gift would build an element of trust so I might bring him home, remove the burr from his paw, give him a cool place to lie and help him understand that the part of his life with you is now over. He did not return that morning and at dusk the water and food were still there untouched. And I worried. You must understand that many people would not attempt to help your dog. Some would run him off, others would call the county and the fate you thought you saved him from would be preempted by his suffering for days without food or water.
I returned again before dark. I did not see him. I went again early the next morning only to find the food and water still untouched. If only you were here to call his name. Your voice is so familiar to him. I began pursuit in the direction he had taken yesterday, doubt overshadowing my hope of finding him. His search for you was desperate, it could take him many miles in 24 hours.
It is hours later and a good distance from where we first met, but I have found your dog. His thirst has stopped, it is no longer a torment to him. His hunger has disappeared, he no longer aches. The burrs in his paws bother him no more. Your dog has been set free from his burdens, you see, your dog has died.
I kneel next to him and I curse you for not being here yesterday so I could see the glow, if just for a moment, in those now vacant eyes. I pray that his journey has taken him to that place I think you hoped he would find.
If only you knew what he went through to reach it...and I agonize, for I know, that were he to awaken at this moment, and (if) I were to be you, his eyes would sparkle with recognition and his tail would wag with forgiveness.
I Stood By Your Bed
I stood by your bed last night; I came to have a peep.
I could see that you were crying, you found it hard to sleep.
I whined to you softly as you brushed away a tear,
"It's me, I haven't left you, I'm well, I'm fine, I'm here."
I was close to you at breakfast, I watched you pour the tea,
You were thinking of the many times your hands reached out to me.
I was with you at the shops today; your arms were getting sore.
I longed to take your parcels; I wish I could do more.
I was with you at my grave today; you tend it with such care.
I want to reassure you that I'm not lying there.
I walked with you towards the house, as you fumbled for your key.
I gently put my paw on you; I smiled and said "It's me."
You looked so very tired, and sank into a chair.
I tried so hard to let you know that I was standing there.
It's possible for me to be so near you every day.
To say to you with certainty, "I never went away."
You sat there very quietly, then smiled, I think you knew...
In the stillness of that evening, I was very close to you.
The day is almost over... I smile and watch you yawning
And say, "Goodnight, God bless, I'll see you in the morning."
And when the time is right for you to cross the brief divide,
I'll rush across to greet you and we'll stand, side by side.
I have so many things to show you, there is so much for you to see.
Be patient, live your journey out... then come home to be with me.
I could see that you were crying, you found it hard to sleep.
I whined to you softly as you brushed away a tear,
"It's me, I haven't left you, I'm well, I'm fine, I'm here."
I was close to you at breakfast, I watched you pour the tea,
You were thinking of the many times your hands reached out to me.
I was with you at the shops today; your arms were getting sore.
I longed to take your parcels; I wish I could do more.
I was with you at my grave today; you tend it with such care.
I want to reassure you that I'm not lying there.
I walked with you towards the house, as you fumbled for your key.
I gently put my paw on you; I smiled and said "It's me."
You looked so very tired, and sank into a chair.
I tried so hard to let you know that I was standing there.
It's possible for me to be so near you every day.
To say to you with certainty, "I never went away."
You sat there very quietly, then smiled, I think you knew...
In the stillness of that evening, I was very close to you.
The day is almost over... I smile and watch you yawning
And say, "Goodnight, God bless, I'll see you in the morning."
And when the time is right for you to cross the brief divide,
I'll rush across to greet you and we'll stand, side by side.
I have so many things to show you, there is so much for you to see.
Be patient, live your journey out... then come home to be with me.
Is this heaven?
An old man and his dog were walking along a country road, enjoying the scenery,
when it suddenly occurred to the man that he was actually dead.
He remembered dying, and that his dog too had been dead for many years.
He wondered where the road would lead them, and continued onward.
After a while, they came to a high, white stone wall along one side of the road. It looked like fine marble.
At the top of a long hill, it was broken by a tall, white arch that gleamed in the sunlight.
When he was standing before it, he saw a magnificent gate inthe arch that looked like mother of pearl,
and the street that led to the gate looked like pure gold.
He was pleased that he had finally arrived at heaven, and the man and
his dog walked toward the gate. As he got closer, he
saw someone sitting at a beautifully carved desk off to one side.
When he was close enough, he called out, "Excuse me, but is this heaven?"
"Yes, it is, sir," the man answered. "Would you happen to have some water?" the man asked as he was very thirsty.
"Of course, sir. Come right in, and I'll have some ice water brought right up.
" The gatekeeper gestured to his rear, and the huge gate began to open.
"I assume my friend can come in..." the man said, gesturing toward his dog.
But the reply was "I'm sorry, sir, but we don't accept pets.
"The man thought about it, then thanked the gatekeeper, turned back toward the road, and continued in the direction he had been going.
After another long walk, he reached the top of another long hill, and he came to a dirt road which led through a farm gate.
There was no fence, and it looked as if the gate had never been closed, as grass had grown up around it.
As he approached the gate, he saw a man just inside, sitting in the shade of a tree in a rickety old chair, reading a book.
"Excuse me!" he called to the reader. "Do you have any water?"
"Yeah, sure, there's a pump over there," the man said, pointing to a
place that couldn't be seen from outside the gate.
"Come on in and make yourself at home."
"How about my friend here?" the traveler gestured to the dog.
"He's welcome too, and there's a bowl by the pump," he said.
They walked through the gate and, sure enough, there was an old-fashioned hand pump with a dipper hanging on it and a bowl next to it on the ground. The man filled the bowl for his dog, he then took a long drink himself. When both were satisfied, he and the dog walked back toward the man, who was sitting under the tree waiting for them, and asked, "What do you call this place?"
"This is heaven," was the answer. "Well, that's
confusing," the traveler said. "It certainly doesn't look like heaven,
and there's another man downthe road who said that place was heaven." "Oh, you mean the place with the gold street and pearly gates?" "Yes, it was beautiful." "Nope. That's hell."
"Doesn't it offend you for them to use the name of heaven like that?"
"No. I can see how you might think so, but it actually saves us a
lot of time. They screen out the people who are willing
to leave their best friends behind."
when it suddenly occurred to the man that he was actually dead.
He remembered dying, and that his dog too had been dead for many years.
He wondered where the road would lead them, and continued onward.
After a while, they came to a high, white stone wall along one side of the road. It looked like fine marble.
At the top of a long hill, it was broken by a tall, white arch that gleamed in the sunlight.
When he was standing before it, he saw a magnificent gate inthe arch that looked like mother of pearl,
and the street that led to the gate looked like pure gold.
He was pleased that he had finally arrived at heaven, and the man and
his dog walked toward the gate. As he got closer, he
saw someone sitting at a beautifully carved desk off to one side.
When he was close enough, he called out, "Excuse me, but is this heaven?"
"Yes, it is, sir," the man answered. "Would you happen to have some water?" the man asked as he was very thirsty.
"Of course, sir. Come right in, and I'll have some ice water brought right up.
" The gatekeeper gestured to his rear, and the huge gate began to open.
"I assume my friend can come in..." the man said, gesturing toward his dog.
But the reply was "I'm sorry, sir, but we don't accept pets.
"The man thought about it, then thanked the gatekeeper, turned back toward the road, and continued in the direction he had been going.
After another long walk, he reached the top of another long hill, and he came to a dirt road which led through a farm gate.
There was no fence, and it looked as if the gate had never been closed, as grass had grown up around it.
As he approached the gate, he saw a man just inside, sitting in the shade of a tree in a rickety old chair, reading a book.
"Excuse me!" he called to the reader. "Do you have any water?"
"Yeah, sure, there's a pump over there," the man said, pointing to a
place that couldn't be seen from outside the gate.
"Come on in and make yourself at home."
"How about my friend here?" the traveler gestured to the dog.
"He's welcome too, and there's a bowl by the pump," he said.
They walked through the gate and, sure enough, there was an old-fashioned hand pump with a dipper hanging on it and a bowl next to it on the ground. The man filled the bowl for his dog, he then took a long drink himself. When both were satisfied, he and the dog walked back toward the man, who was sitting under the tree waiting for them, and asked, "What do you call this place?"
"This is heaven," was the answer. "Well, that's
confusing," the traveler said. "It certainly doesn't look like heaven,
and there's another man downthe road who said that place was heaven." "Oh, you mean the place with the gold street and pearly gates?" "Yes, it was beautiful." "Nope. That's hell."
"Doesn't it offend you for them to use the name of heaven like that?"
"No. I can see how you might think so, but it actually saves us a
lot of time. They screen out the people who are willing
to leave their best friends behind."
ONE BY ONE ...
One by One, they pass by my cage,
Too old, too worn, too broken, no way.
Way past his time, he can't run and play.
Then they shake their heads slowly and go on their way.
A little old man, arthritic and sore,
It seems I am not wanted anymore.
I once had a home, I once had a bed,
A place that was warm, and where I was fed.
Now my muzzle is grey, and my eyes slowly fail.
Who wants a dog so old and so frail?
My family decided I didn't belong,
I got in their way, my attitude was wrong.
Whatever excuse they made in their head,
Can't justify how they left me for dead.
Now I sit in this cage, where day after day,
The younger dogs get adopted away.
When I had almost come to the end of my rope,
You saw my face, and I finally had hope.
You saw thru the grey, and the legs bent with age,
And felt I still had life beyond this cage.
You took me home, gave me food and a bed,
And shared your own pillow with my poor tired head.
We snuggle and play, and you talk to me low,
You love me so dearly, you want me to know.
I may have lived most of my life with another,
But you outshine them with a love so much stronger.
And I promise to return all the love I can give,
To you, my dear person, as long as I live.
I may be with you for a week, or for years,
We will share many smiles, you will no doubt shed tears.
And when the time comes that God deems I must leave, I know you will
cry and your heart, it will grieve.
And when I arrive at the Bridge, all brand new,
My thoughts and my heart will still be with you.
And I will brag to all who will hear,
Of the person who made my last days so dear.
Too old, too worn, too broken, no way.
Way past his time, he can't run and play.
Then they shake their heads slowly and go on their way.
A little old man, arthritic and sore,
It seems I am not wanted anymore.
I once had a home, I once had a bed,
A place that was warm, and where I was fed.
Now my muzzle is grey, and my eyes slowly fail.
Who wants a dog so old and so frail?
My family decided I didn't belong,
I got in their way, my attitude was wrong.
Whatever excuse they made in their head,
Can't justify how they left me for dead.
Now I sit in this cage, where day after day,
The younger dogs get adopted away.
When I had almost come to the end of my rope,
You saw my face, and I finally had hope.
You saw thru the grey, and the legs bent with age,
And felt I still had life beyond this cage.
You took me home, gave me food and a bed,
And shared your own pillow with my poor tired head.
We snuggle and play, and you talk to me low,
You love me so dearly, you want me to know.
I may have lived most of my life with another,
But you outshine them with a love so much stronger.
And I promise to return all the love I can give,
To you, my dear person, as long as I live.
I may be with you for a week, or for years,
We will share many smiles, you will no doubt shed tears.
And when the time comes that God deems I must leave, I know you will
cry and your heart, it will grieve.
And when I arrive at the Bridge, all brand new,
My thoughts and my heart will still be with you.
And I will brag to all who will hear,
Of the person who made my last days so dear.
The Life of a Puppy
This Morning, I Woke Up And Kissed My Dad's Head
I Peed On The Carpet, Then Went Back To Bed
"The Life Of A Puppy, Oh My, This Is Great"
Then I Thought About Breakfast," I Hope It's Not Late"
Mom Took Me Outside, We Walked For A While
This Never Fails To Make Mama Smile
I Sniffed Of Everything That We Did Pass
I Ate Something Weird And It Gave Me Gas
I'm Sure God Loves Me, I Know That Is True
He Gave Me So Many Great Things To Chew
Rugs, Plants Or Rocks, I Really Don't Care
What I Truly Like Best Is Dad's Underwear
That Obedience Book Was Sort Of Yummy
Though It Didn't Sit Well On My Poor Puppy Tummy
I Threw Up A Bit But That Was All Right,
When Mom Found It Later, I Was Well Out Of Sight
I Made Streamers Of T. P. While Running At Full Speed
Mom Is Pretty Quick But I Was Still In The Lead
I Flew Under The Bed And Mom Flew Past
She Stopped And Shook Her Head And Breathed
"You're Too Fast"
Mama Later Phoned Daddy And Said, "It Was Frightening!"
That Afternoon She Was Sure I'd Pooped Lightning
She Sat At The Computer While I Chewed The Cord
She Thought I Was Mad But I Was Just Bored
When Mama Had Enough And Couldn't Take Anymore
That's When My Tushy Got Shoved Out The Door
I Love It Inside But Outside Is Best
Lay In The Cool Grass And Had A Good Rest
That Didn't Last Long As There Was Too Much To Do
Can't Quite Remember Where I Hid Daddy's Shoe
I Found An Old Bone And Scratched At A Flea
I Watched The Dumb Squirrels As They Jumped In A Tree
I Barked At The Kids When They Got Off The Bus
I Can't Figure Out Why This Makes Mama Fuss
I Barked At The Neighbor, I Barked At The Wind
I Barked And Barked, Till Mom Yelled, "COME IN"
The Sun Dipped In The West, Soon Daddy Would Come!
I Sure Love My Daddy, We Always Have Fun
I Barked At My Daddy And Then Turned On My Charms
I Woof Woofed, "Hello," Then Jumped In His Arms
Sitting Under The Table, It's Sooo Hard To Wait
Daddy Slipped Me A Goodie Right Off His Plate
I Raced Through The House And Scattered My Toys
Ricocheted Off The Furniture And Made Lots Of Noise
Mom Found Her Purse, The One I Had Abused
Daddy Let Loose A Chuckle
Mom Asked "Are You Amused?"
I Cowered Down Low, I Must Be In Trouble
Dad Said, "Wasn't My Boy, It Must Be His Double!"
Mom Turned Off The TV And Said, "It's Time For Bed"
Dad Said "Let's Go Boy" And Patted My Head
I Got In My Spot Between Mom And Dad
I Thought About My Day And What Fun That I Had
Mama Kicked Out My Bone From The Covers Below
Then Let Loose A Sigh, A Sigh Deep And Low
She Gave Me A Kiss And Snuggled Me Tight
And Whispered So Softly, "My Darling GoodNight"
I Peed On The Carpet, Then Went Back To Bed
"The Life Of A Puppy, Oh My, This Is Great"
Then I Thought About Breakfast," I Hope It's Not Late"
Mom Took Me Outside, We Walked For A While
This Never Fails To Make Mama Smile
I Sniffed Of Everything That We Did Pass
I Ate Something Weird And It Gave Me Gas
I'm Sure God Loves Me, I Know That Is True
He Gave Me So Many Great Things To Chew
Rugs, Plants Or Rocks, I Really Don't Care
What I Truly Like Best Is Dad's Underwear
That Obedience Book Was Sort Of Yummy
Though It Didn't Sit Well On My Poor Puppy Tummy
I Threw Up A Bit But That Was All Right,
When Mom Found It Later, I Was Well Out Of Sight
I Made Streamers Of T. P. While Running At Full Speed
Mom Is Pretty Quick But I Was Still In The Lead
I Flew Under The Bed And Mom Flew Past
She Stopped And Shook Her Head And Breathed
"You're Too Fast"
Mama Later Phoned Daddy And Said, "It Was Frightening!"
That Afternoon She Was Sure I'd Pooped Lightning
She Sat At The Computer While I Chewed The Cord
She Thought I Was Mad But I Was Just Bored
When Mama Had Enough And Couldn't Take Anymore
That's When My Tushy Got Shoved Out The Door
I Love It Inside But Outside Is Best
Lay In The Cool Grass And Had A Good Rest
That Didn't Last Long As There Was Too Much To Do
Can't Quite Remember Where I Hid Daddy's Shoe
I Found An Old Bone And Scratched At A Flea
I Watched The Dumb Squirrels As They Jumped In A Tree
I Barked At The Kids When They Got Off The Bus
I Can't Figure Out Why This Makes Mama Fuss
I Barked At The Neighbor, I Barked At The Wind
I Barked And Barked, Till Mom Yelled, "COME IN"
The Sun Dipped In The West, Soon Daddy Would Come!
I Sure Love My Daddy, We Always Have Fun
I Barked At My Daddy And Then Turned On My Charms
I Woof Woofed, "Hello," Then Jumped In His Arms
Sitting Under The Table, It's Sooo Hard To Wait
Daddy Slipped Me A Goodie Right Off His Plate
I Raced Through The House And Scattered My Toys
Ricocheted Off The Furniture And Made Lots Of Noise
Mom Found Her Purse, The One I Had Abused
Daddy Let Loose A Chuckle
Mom Asked "Are You Amused?"
I Cowered Down Low, I Must Be In Trouble
Dad Said, "Wasn't My Boy, It Must Be His Double!"
Mom Turned Off The TV And Said, "It's Time For Bed"
Dad Said "Let's Go Boy" And Patted My Head
I Got In My Spot Between Mom And Dad
I Thought About My Day And What Fun That I Had
Mama Kicked Out My Bone From The Covers Below
Then Let Loose A Sigh, A Sigh Deep And Low
She Gave Me A Kiss And Snuggled Me Tight
And Whispered So Softly, "My Darling GoodNight"
Waggy Tails & Puppy Breath
Waggy tails and puppy breath,
Little barks and cries.
Roly poly balls of fur,
Contented little sighs.
Bouncing, jumping, running free
Tugging on a toy.
Look she's chewing on a bone
And now here comes the boy.
Growling, tugging playfully
Biting tails and ears.
Time to play a game of chase
Hearts that know no fear.
Once around the living room
Past the table too.
Stop! I see another toy
Looks like mommy's shoe.
Now a game of tug of war
The shoestrings are the best!
All this play is tiring
I think it's time to rest.
Tired eyes and little yawns
There's silence .. not a sound.
Where could they have gotten too?
Guess I'll look around.
Balls of fur curled into one
Can't tell who is who.
Puppies sleeping peacefully
Right next to mommy's shoe.
Little barks and cries.
Roly poly balls of fur,
Contented little sighs.
Bouncing, jumping, running free
Tugging on a toy.
Look she's chewing on a bone
And now here comes the boy.
Growling, tugging playfully
Biting tails and ears.
Time to play a game of chase
Hearts that know no fear.
Once around the living room
Past the table too.
Stop! I see another toy
Looks like mommy's shoe.
Now a game of tug of war
The shoestrings are the best!
All this play is tiring
I think it's time to rest.
Tired eyes and little yawns
There's silence .. not a sound.
Where could they have gotten too?
Guess I'll look around.
Balls of fur curled into one
Can't tell who is who.
Puppies sleeping peacefully
Right next to mommy's shoe.
You Didn't Even Say Goodbye
"Woof!" I said as you started the car,
"Hooray!" I said, it's my first time afar.
The scents we were passing were all new to me,
For it was my first introduction to this mystery.
As we got out of the car I embraced you with joy,
After all you remembered to bring my favourite toy!
You threw it once or twice, of which I retrieved,
But on the third it seemed you were ready to leave.
You threw it long and hard and I chased it like lightning,
But when I turned to bring it back I saw a sight quite frightening.
I gripped my toy hard as I tried to comprehend
What it was I did wrong to make our relationship end.
You walked back to your car as I sat there still loyal.
Why am I subservient and you so royal?
Your engine started, and you peeled out into the night,
You didn't even care about my overwhelming fright.
As I sat in my pose determined you would come back,
The sun faded behind me while the surroundings turned black.
Day after day I stayed in that park,
Lying... waiting... too feeble to bark.
As I lay there dying thinking of you master,
I asked myself how I got into this horrifying disaster.
With my last breath of life, I whispered your name
Then I collapsed in a heap overrun by pain.
Why didn't you love me master? Why didn't you care?
Had I no significance, was I just a clump of hair?
I stayed there master and I waited for you
I guess taking care of me was just too much to do.
I'm gone now master, no more You-and-I
But what I can't figure out is why you didn't even say goodbye...
"Hooray!" I said, it's my first time afar.
The scents we were passing were all new to me,
For it was my first introduction to this mystery.
As we got out of the car I embraced you with joy,
After all you remembered to bring my favourite toy!
You threw it once or twice, of which I retrieved,
But on the third it seemed you were ready to leave.
You threw it long and hard and I chased it like lightning,
But when I turned to bring it back I saw a sight quite frightening.
I gripped my toy hard as I tried to comprehend
What it was I did wrong to make our relationship end.
You walked back to your car as I sat there still loyal.
Why am I subservient and you so royal?
Your engine started, and you peeled out into the night,
You didn't even care about my overwhelming fright.
As I sat in my pose determined you would come back,
The sun faded behind me while the surroundings turned black.
Day after day I stayed in that park,
Lying... waiting... too feeble to bark.
As I lay there dying thinking of you master,
I asked myself how I got into this horrifying disaster.
With my last breath of life, I whispered your name
Then I collapsed in a heap overrun by pain.
Why didn't you love me master? Why didn't you care?
Had I no significance, was I just a clump of hair?
I stayed there master and I waited for you
I guess taking care of me was just too much to do.
I'm gone now master, no more You-and-I
But what I can't figure out is why you didn't even say goodbye...
My Dogs Live Here
My dogs live here, they're here to stay.
You don't like pets, be on your way.
They share my home, my food, my space
This is their home, this is their place.
You will find dog hair on the floor,
They will alert you're at the door.
They may request a little pat,
A simple "no" will settle that.
It gripes me when I hear you say
"Just how is it you live this way?
They smell, they shed, they're in the way
WHO ASKED YOU? Is all I can say.
They love me more than anyone,
My voice is like the rising sun,
They merely have to hear me say
"C'mon girls, time to go and play."
Then tails wag and faces grin,
They bounce and hop and make a din.
They never say "No time for you,"
they're always there, to GO and DO.
And if I'm sad, they're by my side
And if I'm mad, they circle wide
And if I laugh, they laugh with me
They understand, they always see.
So once again, I say to you?
"Come visit me, but know this, too.
My dogs live here, they're here to stay.
You don't like pets, be on your way.
They share my home, my food, my space
This is their home, this is their place."
My dogs live here, they're here to stay.
You don't like pets, be on your way.
They share my home, my food, my space
This is their home, this is their place.
You will find dog hair on the floor,
They will alert you're at the door.
They may request a little pat,
A simple "no" will settle that.
It gripes me when I hear you say
"Just how is it you live this way?
They smell, they shed, they're in the way
WHO ASKED YOU? Is all I can say.
They love me more than anyone,
My voice is like the rising sun,
They merely have to hear me say
"C'mon girls, time to go and play."
Then tails wag and faces grin,
They bounce and hop and make a din.
They never say "No time for you,"
they're always there, to GO and DO.
And if I'm sad, they're by my side
And if I'm mad, they circle wide
And if I laugh, they laugh with me
They understand, they always see.
So once again, I say to you?
"Come visit me, but know this, too.
My dogs live here, they're here to stay.
You don't like pets, be on your way.
They share my home, my food, my space
This is their home, this is their place."
None of these are mine, I do not know who they belong to. I found them on the internet or sent to me in emails.