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 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. 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 the UK.

Anyone is welcome to distribute the essay for a noncommercial purpose, as long as it is properly attributed with the copyright notice. Please
use it 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 vet or animal welfare organisation can offer you good advice, and that all life is precious. Please do your part to stop the killing, and encourage all spay and neuter campaigns in order to prevent unwanted animals. -Jim Willis

Holly: (adopted) 19 September 2008 - 05 August 2011, aged 14 - our most wonderful, kind rescue Collie.

Rescue dogs can be challenging when you first bring them home but if you are calm, assertive and consistent with your dog, resisting the urge to ‘baby’ him, then you should be reward with a wonderful family pet. 

A dog expects to work for his food and water, and to follow the rules and guidelines of an orderly pack, controlled by a trusted pack leader. Therefore, when your dog comes to live with you he is naturally looking for a calm assertive leader. When these qualities are not demonstrated by you (his owner and pack leader) he can very quickly assume the role of pack leader and display unwanted and/or dominant behaviour. If not addressed and dealt with this dominant behaviour could lead to aggression.

Remember it is not the dog’s fault if they do not understand you! You must communicate in their language.

http://www.telegraph.co.uk/family/pets/8287949/Woman-returned-rescue-dog-because-it-clashed-with-curtains.html

Now because of the crisis and the rise in unwanted dogs more and more perfectly healthy dogs are being ‘killed’ (as the RSPCA frankly put it). For the shocking and upsetting truth please visit:

http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/uk-10807271

It is a fabulous show, lots of humour, passion, information and Cesar’s emotion reaches out to every person in the audience, with his beliefs on dog psychology explained in easy to understand analogies.

This will be two hours of your time well spent.

Remaining UK tour schedule:

Wednesday 10th March 2010 @ Trent FM Arena, Nottingham

Saturday 13 March 2010 @ Metro Radio Arena, Newcastle Upon Tyne

Tuesday 16 March 2010 @ The Odyssey, Belfast

Wednesday 17 March 2010 @ The O2, Dublin

Saturday 20 March 2010 @ Echo Arena, Liverpool

Sunday 21 March 2010 @ Sheffield Arena, Sheffield

As a young puppy his eyes were never as they should be, and it was diagnosed that he had a dry eye. But now it appears that this was the first sign of poor Freddie suffering from autoimmune deficiency.

The vets did a good job trying to figure out what was wrong - firstly thinking it was lungworm, then cancer, and lastly deciding on autoimmune disease - but unfortunately, after months of trying to make him better, nothing could be done to cure him that was satisfactory, or that would allow him to lead a normal dog’s life.

Little Fredstar: August 2008 - December 2009

The problem arises when dogs purposefully or accidentally eat these common garden pests when rummaging through undergrowth, eating grass, drinking from puddles or outdoor water bowls, or pick them up from their toys. Research in other parts of the world has demonstrated that, under certain conditions, lungworm larvae infective to dogs, can be released in slime from aquatic snails.

Foxes can also become infected with the lungworm, and have been implicated in the spread of the parasite across the country.

There are two main problems caused by dogs becoming infected with lungworm:

To find out more about Lungworm speak to you vet.

http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/england/london/8368627.stm  (source BBC website)

Although the dog gets blamed and is more often than not destroyed when they attack, it is NOT their fault! It really is the owners fault and their responsibility.

Any dog is capable of attacking other dogs and humans if they are not lead by a calm, assertive pack leader.  However, please note this does not mean all dogs who do not have pack leaders will attack. As humans it is down to us to ensure dog attacks do not happen.

Please be a responsible dog owner and learn how to become his pack leader so he can be a happy, balanced dog.

What a truely inspiring person! If you believe in the power of the pack I  strongly recommend, if you get the chance, you see Cesar Millan’s live tour. 

Cesar gets across the importance of treating dogs as dogs, and being their pack leader in a very entertaining and amusing manner.

Within four days returning home I found out, much to my delight, that Cesar Millan will be touring the  UK in 2010. Luckily for me, I have already got a pre-sale ticket so will be seeing him again in March 2010.

Update coming soon…