1. My life is likely to last 10 to 15 years - any separation from you will be very painful.

2. Give me time to understand what you want of me.

3. Place your trust in me - it is crucial for my well being.

4. Don't be angry with me for long and don't lock me up as punishment...You have your work, your friends, your entertainment... I HAVE ONLY YOU!

5. Talk to me. Even if I don't understand your words, I understand your voice when you're speaking to me.

6. Be aware that however you treat me, I'll NEVER forget it.

7. Before you hit me, remember that I have teeth that could easily crush the bones in your hands but I choose NOT to bite YOU.

8. Before you scold me for being lazy or uncooperative, ask yourself if something might be bothering me. Perhaps I'm not getting the right food, I've been out in the sun too long or my heart may be getting old and weak.

9. Take care of me when I get old. You too will grow old.

10. Go with me on difficult journeys. Never say, "I can't bear to watch it" or "Let it happen in my absence." Everything is easier for ME if you are there. Remember that I love you

-- Author Unknown

Please help! After two long years of being on a waiting list for an exotic rare breed dog, we were finally notified by the breeder that at long last, our number has come up, and... WE'RE HAVING A PUPPY!

We must IMMEDIATELY get rid of our children now, because we just KNOW how time consuming our new little puppy is going to be! Since our puppy will be arriving on Monday, we MUST place the children in new homes this weekend!!!

They are described as: One male, white, blonde hair, blue eyes. Four years old. Excellent disposition. He doesn't bite. Name is Tommy. Temperament tested. Current on all shots. Tonsils removed already and very healthy condition!

Tommy eats everything, is very clean, house trained and gets along well with others. Does not run with scissors and with a little time and training, he will do well in a new home.

One female, strawberry blonde hair, green eyes. Three years old. Can be surly at times. Non-biter, thumb sucker Her name is Mary. Temperament tested, but needs a little attitude adjusting occasionally. She is current on all shots, tonsils out, and is very healthy and happy (mostly.) Gets along well with little boys, but does not like to share toys.

She is house trained, and would do best in a one child household.

We really LOVE our children, and want to do what is best for them. I hope you understand, that ours is a UNIQUE situation, and we have a real emergency here! They MUST be placed by Sunday night at the latest.

-author unknown
(if we knew who it was we'd send them flowers and a box of candy)

 

 

Consider This...

If you can start the day without caffeine,

If you can get going without pep pills,

If you can always be cheerful, ignoring aches & pains,

If you can resist complaining and boring people with your troubles,

If you can eat the same food every day and be grateful for it,

If you can understand when your loved ones are too busy to give you any time,

If you can overlook it when those you love take it out on you when, through no fault of yours, something goes wrong,

If you can take criticism and blame without resentment,

If you can ignore a friends limited education and never correct him/her,

If you can resist treating a rich friend better than a poor friend,

If you can face the world without lies and deceit,

If you can conquer tension without medical help,

If you can relax without liquor,

If you can sleep without the aid of drugs,

If you can honestly say that deep in your heart you have no prejudice against creed, color, religion, or politics,

Then, my friend,.............................................................. You are ALMOST as good as your dog

-- Author Unknown

I was born in the Summer a few years ago. Quite why I was born, I'll never know. Some folk who owned my mother, decided to breed. No reason I know of except for their greed; I know I was hungry, I know I was cold; They sold me quite early at just five weeks old.

My number one owners seemed friendly at first, And life was quite good till my bubble burst; They started to argue, their marriage split up; And in the AD: "For Sale - 4 months old pup".

Some folk arrived, the next ones in line. They treated me kind and life was just fine. But Master dropped dead, and she couldn't cope. So she sold me again (I'll soon give up hope).

I now had a new home right up in the sky; We went up in the lift fourteen floors high! The new folks were kind but they left me all day; I was bursting to wee and had nowhere to play. It was boredom, I think, when I chewed up the chair; They agreed I should go as it just wasn't fair.

The next home was good and I thought "this is it"! They started to show and I won....well, a bit. Then somebody told them that I had no bone. And in went the AD: "For Sale...to a good home".

The next lot were dreadful, they wanted a guard; But I didn't know how, although I tried hard. One night they got burgled and I didn't bark; Tied up in that shed and alone in the dark. For four months I lay in that cold and dark shed; With only an old paper sack for a bed. A small dish of water all slimy and green; The state I was in, well, it had to be seen! I longed for destruction, and an end to the pain; But some new people came and I went off again.

Well now I'm with Rescue and this home is good; There's walks in the country and lots of good food; There's kisses and cuddles to great me each day; But I dread the time they will send me away. But for now here I stand, skin and bone on all four; PLEASE......don't let "ME" happen to any of yours!!

-- Author Unknown

When I was a puppy I entertained you with my antics and made you laugh. You called me your child and despite a number of chewed shoes and a couple of murdered throw pillows, I became your best friend. Whenever I was "bad," you'd shake your finger at me and ask "How could you?" - but then you'd relent and roll me over for a bellyrub. My housebreaking took a little longer than expected, because you were terribly busy, but we worked on that together. I remember those nights of nuzzling you in bed, 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 know 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,

I 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.

*You are encouraged to publish "How Could You?" in order to help change public opinion of animals as "disposable," and to make people realize that adding an animal to the family means a commitment for the life of the pet!

Fred and Lois Pack, Pack's Peak Stables, Wilkeson, WA USA

THE HOUNDS OF SILENCE
Noel Campbell

Hello mouthwash my old friend
I've come to rinse with you again
Because a basset softly creeping
Licked my mouth while I was sleeping
And the dog smell that was planted in my brain
Still remains
And haunts me with the breath of bassets


In crowded halls the bassets roam
Leave drifts of hair like forest loam
'Neath the halo of kitchen lamps,
I turned my back to insistent pants
When my ears were stabbed by “aroos” of a basset pack
That wants a snack
And steamed the breath of bassets.


And in the backyard grass I saw
Ten thousand poop piles, maybe more.
People stepping without looking,
People cursing without caring,
People shaking shoes that’re never coming clean
It seems obscene
There in the realm of bassets.


"Fools" said I, "You do not know
Bassets like vandals roll.
Sit still so that I might leash you,
Drop the ham! Wait 'til I catch you."
But my words like silent raindrops fell,
And echoed
'Tween the ears of bassets


And the food slaves bowed and prayed
To the furry gods they'd raised.
And the basset barked out its warning,
In the "aroos" it was forming.
And the basset said, “The wishes of the houndies
Are drooled on the kitchen floors
And cabinet doors.
And whisper'd in the breath of bassets.”