posted by Michel on Jul 27

In my previous post about our newly adopted friend, Jackie our Jack Russell Terrier, I hinted at a possible scenario that might have happened to him and his former family: that they were too busy with other things and there was simply no more room for the little guy. This reminded me of a VERY MOVING story that I read on a Dutch Border Collie web site. The author is unknown, but he or she is most definitely a person who understands these sort of situations. I translated the story myself so please excuse any misinterpretation or omissions, but I think you will get the message anyway. [see update below]

Better go get some hankies right now, just in case …

How could you?

When I was a puppy, I amused you with my funny games and I used to make you laugh. You called me “your baby” and despite shoes getting chewed on beyond recognition and the odd murder of a pillowcase, I became your best friend. When I was naughty you shook your finger at me and said “How could you?”, but then you gave in to my charms and rolled me on my back to scratch my belly. My pottytraining took a little longer than expected because you were very busy, but we both worked on it so hard. I remember nudging up to you with my nose at night and that I used to listen to your best kept secrets and wildest dreams and I simply couldn’t imagine a better life. We took long walks and ran through the park, took rides in your car and stopped along the way for an ice cream (I only got the biscuit because icecream is bad for dogs you used to say) and I took long naps behind the window in the sun and waited for you to come home at the end of a long day.

Gradually you spent more time on your work and your career and more time on finding a human partner. I waited for you patiently, comforted you when you were hurt or disappointed, never blamed you for making the wrong decision and joyfully jumped about the house when you returned home. And then you fell in love. She - now your wife - unfortunately was not what you might call a “dog-person”. Still, I welcomed her into our home, tried to give her affection and obeyed her. I was happy because you were.

Then the human babies arrived and I shared your excitement. I was fascinated by their pink skin, their peculiar smell and wanted to mother them too. Only you and her were worried that I would hurt them and too often I was banished to another room, or even the bench. Ohh I longed to love them so much but instead became a prisoner of love.

As they grew up, I became their friend. They hung on to my fur as they pulled themselves up onto their tiny wobbly legs, they stuck fingers in my eyes, investigated my ears and kissed me on the nose. I loved them and I loved their touch - as yours were now so seldom - and I would have gladly sacrificed my life for them if the need ever would have arisen. I secretly hid in their beds and listened to their worries and dreams as we awaited the sound of your car on the driveway.

There was a time that, when others asked if you had a dog, you would proudly pull a photo of me from your wallet and told fascinating stories about me. Later on, you anwered simply “Yes” and changed the subject. I became “just” a dog instead of “your” dog and every penny spent on me was one too many.

Now you have a career-opportunity in another town and you and your family will move to an appartment where dogs are not allowed. You made the right decision for your family, but once there was a time when I was the only family you had. I was happy and excited about that car trip we took, until we stopped at the animal shelter. The smell was of dogs and cats, and of fear and hopeless longing for companionship. As you filled out the forms you said that you were sure that they would find me a loving home. They shrugged their shoulders and looked you in the eye. They already knew the hard truth that befalls a middle aged dog, even one with papers.

You had to tear the tiny fingers of your son from my collar while he screamed “Daddy, NO! Don’t let them take my dog!”. And I was very worried for him and about everything you were teaching him about friendship, loyalty, love and responsibility and about respect for all living creatures. As a farewall you patted me on the head one more time as you avoided my empty glare. You refused politely to take my collar and leash home as you had to meet a deadline … so did I now.

After you left, the two friendly ladies commented that you had known for months about the move and that you had done nothing to find me a good home. They shook their heads in disbelief and said “How could you?”.

Here at the shelter they give us all the care and attention they possibly can. They feed us, of course, but I haven’t been hungry for days now. At first I’d run to the gate as fast as I could, hoping it was you, that you had changed your mind. Perhaps this was just an horrific dream. Or I hoped that some compassionate soul would come to rescue me. When I finally realised that I simply couldn’t compete with those pretty puppies that were clowning around for attention but had no idea what fate was awaiting them, I retreated to the back of my cage and waited for what was to come.

I could hear her footsteps as she came to collect me at the end of the day and I quietly walked back with her to a seperate room. A strangely quiet room. She put me on the table and rubbed my ears, saying that I needn’t worry. My heart was pounding in anticipation but I also felt a certain relief. The prisoner of love had reached the end of her days. Because it is my nature, I felt sorry for the lady. I could sense her burden was heavy, just like I always used to sense the same in you. Gently she placed a rope around my front paw as a tear was rolling down her cheek. I licked her hand in the same way as I had always done with you when you needed comforting, all those years ago. With great skill she put the needle in my vein. When I felt the sting and the cool liquid spreading through my body, I lay down sleepy, looked her in the eye and whispered “How could you?”.

Perhaps she understood my dog-language because she said “I am so, oh so sorry”.  She held me close and explained quietly that it was her job to make sure I would go to a far better world, where I would never be ignored, abused or left behind again. A place of light and love, so very different from this earthly existence. With the last bit of energy I had left I tried to tell her with a last wag of my tail that my “How could you?” was not directed at her. I was thinking of YOU, my sweet master. I will always think of you and wait for you alone. May everyone in your life reward you with the same loyalty …..

Original web site author’s note:

If there were tears in your eyes when reading “How could you?”, just like with me as I wrote it, it is because this story is a compilation of stories of millions of animals that are dying in shelters all over the world.

Everone is allowed to spread this story for non-commercial puposes.

Please use it to educate people, on web sites, in newsletters and on notice boards everywhere. Tell people that taking a pet into your home is an important decision, that animals deserve our love and care, that - if necessary - finding another good home for your animal is your own responsibility and that every shelter or animal welfare organisation can help and advise you, and that ALL life matters. Please do your utmost to avoid animals being killed because they are “not wanted”.

Update: I noticed that elsewhere on the Border Collie site that the story is attributed to Jim Willis who wrote it in 1999. See his site for the original version …

This will NEVER happen to our Tessa or Jackie!