Sorry this entry is a little bit of a rant, but it struck a nerve with me and I couldn't ignore it. Everyday I see the ads for animals up for adoption. It breaks my heart because I know I can't save them all. I know puppies and kittens are adorable, but remember there are puppies and wonderful adults pets in the shelters. Are you looking for a specific breed? There are pure breds in the shelters being put down everyday and there are breed rescue groups. Please spay and neuter your pets. Don't breed them! There are too many innocent animals dying everyday. Please read this article and think twice before you bring an animal into your family. They aren't disposable.
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A man in Grand Rapids, Michigan incredibly took out a $7000 full page ad in the paper to present the following essay to the people of his community.
HOW COULD YOU? - By Jim Willis, 2001
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 belly rub.
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 and 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've defended them with my life if need be. I would sneak into their beds and listen to their worries and secret dreams, and 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, 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 good-bye 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 and 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 dog speak, 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. And 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 directed at her. It was directed at you, My Beloved Master, I was thinking of you. I will think of you and wait for you forever. May everyone in your life continue to show you so much loyalty.
A Note from the Author: If "How Could You?" brought tears to your eyes as you read it, as it did to mine as I wrote it, it is because it is the composite story of the millions of formerly "owned" pets who die each year in American & Canadian animal shelters. Please use this to help educate, on your websites, in newsletters, on animal shelter and vet office bulletin boards. Tell the public that the decision to add a pet to the family is an important one for life, that animals deserve our love and sensible care, that finding another appropriate home for your animal is your responsibility and any local humane society or animal welfare league can offer you good advice, and that all life is precious. Please do your part to stop the killing, and encourage all spay & neuter campaigns in order to prevent unwanted animals.
Please pass this on to everyone, not to hurt them or make them sad, but it could save maybe, even one, unwanted pet. Remember...They love UNCONDITIONALLY.
Now that the tears are rolling down your face, pass it on! Send to everyone in your address book and around the world! This IS the reality of dogs given up to shelters!
Mommy sandwich. Well another month has come and gone. It's so strange to watch your kids grow up right before your eyes. Everyone tells you how fast it goes by and to enjoy every second but until you have kids of your own it's impossible to understand what they're talking about. Caden is becoming quite the little helper and Téa wants to do whatever Caden is doing. She looks up to Caden so much and constantly wants to play with him. I can't wait to see them grow up together and hopefully become best buds. Don just finished up with his Spring break so he'll be very busy for the next 8 weeks then luckily he'll be able to enjoy his summer break. It was so nice having him home.
Caden and Téa "helping" Mommy
I don't have the heart to tell them they actually make more work for me
Caden keeping a close eye on Téa
Playing in the tub
Do you think my kids are trying to tell me something? Caden helped open the door to our bedroom and this is what Téa did to the figurine. Hmmmmm?
Caden is doing fantastic. He is walking so much better. I credit a lot of that to his wonderful therapists and the horse back riding therapy. He recently got new leg braces that he is wearing at night to help stretch his legs and is also wearing a compression suit now a few hours a day. It's similar to a rash guard or small wet suit. It's used to feed his nervous system and to give him some body awareness. He seems to calm down a lot after he has worn it. He is speaking in sentences more and his vocabulary continues to grow on a daily basis. He can also now count to 100! He's such a smarty pants. We recently went through a bad hitting phase but it seems it's on it's way out. Thank goodness. For awhile I thought I was going to have to keep Téa and him separated permanently.
Handsome boy
Caden says " I like balloons"
Hmm what do I do with these?
This!
Yummy!
And what do I do with this one?
This!
I like "helping" Mommy bake cupcakes.
Téa is officially 11 months old and will be walking any day. She has taken a few steps on her own (2-4) but isn't officially walking yet (luckily). Her little personality is becoming more fun each day. Although she is still 100% a mommy's girl she's becoming more and more independent. She's learning different ways to get Mommy and Daddy's attention. Some are for the better, some are for the worse. The good ways are by cocking her head to the side (we call it her awe face) and by clapping and waving. Her bad ways are by pulling Daddy's CD's off the shelf and getting into the oven and dishwasher. She eats all table food ferociously which has earned her the nick name "miss piggy". Don't worry, we'll put an end to that before she is old enough to understand. I can't believe she will be 1 in a month. It's amazing how fast time goes by.
Téa sporting Daddy's hat
Téa getting into the oven
Just out of the bath
Playing with the ABC'S on the fridge
More of her playing
Drinking from a cup like a big girl
On the move
Eating a snack
Yum Yum
Here's a few pictures of my permanent attachment
Stuck to Mommy
Mommy's little leach
She won't let go.......ever
Playing with Caden's ball
The little ragamuffin, thank goodness for bath time
Pretty Peanut
Happy girl
Téa and her wild pom poms, I mean pig tails
Naughty girl (Caden broke my saftey lock)
Téa and Leila
I love my food!
Goofy girl
Her "Awe face" (apparently she knows she's cute)
