A reminder of why training is so important...

[Rip's Girl]

I don't know if this has been posted before here. Even if it has, it's worth looking at more than once. This really is true, every day at the shelter I volunteer at, there are dogs being abandoned for behavioral problems that could have been nipped in the bud by early training classes.

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?

-Sally Thompson

[julie]

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.

That is something that makes me cross - they even make dog toys look like shoes, wonder which bright spark thought that was a good idea !

[DarknessDivine]

I guess the same people who thought newspaper toys,squeak toys and toys that look like kittens were a good idea for dogs.

[fireworksinjuly]

i love the tire toys.... or well hate them, especially after I had a dog eat all three tires off my tricycle when I was 3...

he ended up going to live with a co-worker of my dads

[oc_spirit]

Awww that poem is so sad!!!!!!!

[Pugdawg1]

Geez, that made me cry.

[IceyBlueSibes]

That's so sad...

I'm sure you have all heard this poem/story before as well...

When I was a puppy I entertained you with my antics and made you laugh. You called me your child and despite a number of chewed shoes and a couple of murdered throw pillows, I became your best friend. Whenever I was "bad," you'd shake your finger at me and ask "How could you?" - but then you'd relent and roll me over for a bellyrub.

My 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.

May everyone in your life continue to show you so much loyalty.

[DarknessDivine]

[BXRchic]

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've read this before a few times (the one that I remember reading though had a little more rhyme to it I think; at any rate), this passage always wells my eyes up with tears...
Could you imagine your dog in some kennel run just waiting to hear footsteps and see YOUR face?

[Ritz459]

Originally Posted by BXRchic

[b]Could you imagine your dog in some kennel run just waiting to hear footsteps and see YOUR face?

I would die just of the thought of it. I feel bad enough when I go to camp (or my Grandma's house for 4 days) and I have to leave Rose.
Mom said that one time I was at camp, she went outside wearing my boats and carrying a bucket (I dumped Chum's bedding with a bucket) and Rose came around the house looking all excited with her tail a-wagging and then she saw it was mom and she put her tail down, and went back to lay down.
I just can't understand how people can think of dogs as desposible and that they would just dump them..... I would die if I had to give up ANY of my critters......

I've heard both of those poems before....they were off the website of a Pittie rescue out of Chicago. They made me so sad when I read them....

[gaddylovesdogs]

These poems are why I am SO into adoption and rescue....

[Rip's Girl]

Icey that is a good one too. I wish all of the people people who are about to "impulse buy" a dog could read that.

[IceyBlueSibes]

I know *sigh*

It's really hard to think about that with my pooches. Sarge gets depressed if I'm not home for a day or so (go over to a friends to sleep over). He even gets depressed when I'm at school... I miss him whenever I can't see him.