Excerpt from Pieces of My Heart: Writings Inspired by Animals and Nature ["How Could You?" is believed to be the most published animal-related essay
in the world, now translated into 21 foreign languages. Everyone is encouraged to ask
their local newspaper to publish it illustrated with photos from local animal shelters; a
recent occurrence has been radio DJs reading it on the air and literally stopping traffic
with their readings.] "HOW COULD YOU?" Copyright 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 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 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 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. ********************************************************** --From Pieces of My
Heart: Writings Inspired by Animals and Nature, by Jim Willis. © January 2002 ,
Infinity Publishing used by permission.
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