Wednesday, September 26, 2007
I just got scolding for soiling my bed... sob sob!
But I got this to share....
10 Things A Dog Asks From Its Owner...
1. My life is likely to last 10 to 15 years. Any separation from you will be painful for me. Remember that before you buy me.
2. Give me time to understand what you want of me.
3. Place your trust in me -- it's crucial for my well being.
4. Don't be angry at me for long and don't lock me up as punishment. You have your work, your entertainment and your friends. I only have you.
5. Talk to me sometimes. Even though I don't understand your words, I understand your voice when it's speaking to me.
6. Be aware that however you treat me, I will not forget.
7. Remember before you hit me that I have teeth that could easily crush the bones of your hand, but that I choose not to bite you.
8. Before you scold me for being "uncooperative" or "obstinate" or "lazy", ask yourself if something might be bothering me. Perhaps I am not getting the right food, or I've been out in the sun too long, or my heart is 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" or "Let it happen in my absence." Everything is easier for me if you are there
Tuesday, September 25, 2007
For all you who do or don't have kids...
- Kibble and water are cheaper than formula and diapers.
- They have more hair when they are born.
- Dogs can go on long trips without yelling "MOM HE'S TOUCHING ME!!!!"
- Dogs never grow out of being kissed in front of their friends.
- It doesn't matter how much dog hair a Dog gets in its mouth.
- You can cage a dog without going to jail.
- Dogs will watch classic Star Trek with you and won't laugh at the special effects.
- Dogs hide their "blankies" in their crates rather than dragging them around in public.
- The older a Dog gets, the more they like you.
- Dogs don't ask why. Dogs don't ask why. Dogs don't ask why.
- Dogs don't roll their eyes when you insist Dogs today have it easier.
- Dogs stick their tongue deep inside your ear canal; children use a pencil.
- Dogs don't jump on the bed; they just quietly shed in them and lay on you, considerately adding to your warmth.
- Dog poop is easier to get off the wall than crayon.
- When Dogs don't listen to you, it is because they cannot understand the complex human language.
- Dogs have tails, making it easier to grab them as they run away.
- No one passes you a Dog with a loaded diaper.
- When Dogs interrupt you making love, you don't have to explain that the two of you are "wrestling to see who does the dishes."
- Dogs don't grow out of their shoes every 2 1/2 months.
- Dogs, when entering those teen years, are neutered.
Sunday, September 23, 2007
Wednesday, September 19, 2007
Tuesday, September 18, 2007
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, 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 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
Monday, September 17, 2007
Friday, September 14, 2007
Wednesday, September 12, 2007
Monday, September 10, 2007
I had quite a weekend! On Saturday, quite a number of ppl visited me... pat me and played with me... this is the first time I see so many people... I hope they like me... they have to... I was quite well behaved that day! I did not bark or pee pee anywhere!
Ok... I am quite tired now... So I want to take a nap! Wooooffff...zzzzzzzzzzzz