Saturday, August 29, 2009

i found this on a site called enchanted forest..
it touched me beyond words can say...
wanted to share it with you...
how insensitive we humans can get...when we are lonely we look for someone and once life is picture perfect again, we get all that we want we forget the ones who stood by us when we had no one..
though this talks about a dog, but please do spare a thought. havent we all turned into a use and throw lot. we give materials more importance than feelings.
only because an animal is smaller and they do not commute in words, it dosent mean their lives aint as important as ours. they have feelings too...they too love..

....Dont send your dog to a shelter!!! find them a good home please!

How could you do this to me?

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 house training 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, especially 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

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.