BellaOnline Forums Relationships Married No Kids connection between ditching pets...

One of my co-worker's literally rescued a maltese pup recently. She found it on the side of a country road. Someone had ditched it. This little pup had a bacterial infection in his tummy, was all matted up, and covered in fleas and ticks. She rushed him to the vet and the vet gave her a ton of free medication to get the pup back to good health.

She had him up here in the office a couple of weeks ago. He looked great. He is back in good health and he is a happy little boy. It just makes my sick when people ditch animals on the road like that. Just leave them to die.

Sorry its long, but worth sharing. I couldn't get through it without crying:

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 b ecame
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 2 nice ladies
said you probably knew about your upcoming move months ago & made no attempt
to find me another good home. They shook their heads & 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.

Oh great. I was just about to leave for a happy hour birthday and thought I'd read this last post before I left. Now I gotta redo my makeup.

That got me right through the heart.

Sorry about the makeup I sat sobbing at my desk when I read it too.

I've read that before...it's so sad, and that story happens every day at every animal shelter in the country.

I found my youngest dog, an Australian Cattle dog, at the shelter. I read about him on Petfinder.com (very dangerous website) and couldn't let him die. He's an absolute genius, and though he's hyper and crazy sometimes, he's turning into a wonderful dog, and is well on his way to becoming an amazing Flyball dog. And he was someone's throwaway dog. So sad!

When we travel, we try to find a petsitter who can stay at the house. We've been using a volunteer from a rescue group who stays at our house. She brings her dog with her, but luckily everyone gets along. We have dogs, no cats. Sometimes my parents keep my Sheltie, if they're in town. She loves my dad, and they enjoy having her for short periods of time, and walk her every day. My neighbor travels a lot for work, and has two dogs, and has tried the petsitter route (she can't use my sitter since one of her dogs doesn't like other dogs in his home). She's had bad experiences with sitters who were unreliable, so she ended up using a Petsmart Pet Hotel instead, and worries about her animals less, since she knows they are well-taken care of there. The Pet Hotel takes cats too, but I know some cats don't take well to being away from their homes. I'd suggest finding out if any of the vet techs at a vet clinic might be interested in petsitting, I've found that some around her often do. Many of them are young and don't have kids, so they have the freedom to do that and need the money.

Speaking of tearjerkers, anyone read "Marley and Me"? What a great book. Good examples of how people can make it work having a dog AND kids, including moving long distances.

Cindy

Oh my goodness! I can't believe you have a Feebeegeebee too! Yes, that's where I got the name, because I often say "hey little Feebeegeebee" or "You're giving me the Feebeegeebees" (complete with cuddle or tummy pat). Yes, isn't it a brilliant name for a pet? Also she's a pretty little thing (will add a photo soon) so it seems appropriate. As for pet names:

Flea-bee (my DH calls her that as a tease)
Fleabs
Feebs (or Phoebs)
Pea

You've given me some great ideas though!

OMG the said Phoebe just threw up all over the carpet, right now! Another reason you don't have pets, Duane?

I grew up having a cat with me. Heck, the cats that I grew up with i did have fun with. One of the cats loved to attack and try to eat my toes (not in a scratching way, but in a fun/playful mode -- he got the name the "Toe eating Kitty" ) However, I didn't do the clean up, feedings, etc for the cats. As I grew up, I saw that there was work that I was not previously aware of -- the occasional furballs that popped up in the strangest of places, and, since our cats were outdoor animals, we didn't have a litterbox, but I saw the process at other friends houses. And the monetary costs of taking the cat to the vet for shots, weird cat ailments, and having to deal with the "putting down" of a kitty cat that I had been around for 12+ years -- I am not sure I could put up with all of that and still remain sane.

In a way, having a cat as a pet (I never was attracted to having a dog) is like having a kid, but with a lot more fun and happiness than having a kid. It also has the downsides of expenses, having to find a pet-sitter, etc. I don't want to be responsible for that pet/kid, even though visiting the pet/kid is fun. The only difference is that the time period for being around a pet is fun for a whole lot longer than the time I can stand being around a kid.

In ways, it makes me more of a non-stereotypical CF person. Why? I am child-free. I am god-free. And I am pet-free, which is usually associated with the stereotype of people who do not have children. I know a lot of people on this board have pets and are happy to have them (or for them to have you ). It's just not for me.

This is just one of those decisions I've come to accept, that makes me different, even more so from people here.

Maybe you're just not ready for a cat. Someday you'll change your mind. It's different when it's your own. :-)

Oh yes! And you will feel love more than you ever imagined it is possible. Everything you have previously considered "love" will be put into perspective�it was nothing compared to this. All the hairballs, ack and cleaning the litter box will be worth it.

Come on Duane! Everyone does it!

Yea, yea, yea, I knew I was setting myself up for a ribbing when I said that...

I don't think the "But you were a kitten once..." argument would work, however

But.... the name that my long time Christian friend has given herself is "PurrsKitty". And yes, she is a longtime cat person. Her good friends have "kitty" names, so I was dubbed "DuaneKitty" many years ago, and it stuck. So, whenver we email and chat, I call her PurrsKitty, and she calls me DuaneKitty. I like it

Therefore, I guess I could say that I have been considered a kitty -- albeit a two legged one

Here's a picture of her latest cat, Nikki Kitty:

Nikki Kitty

a Happy Nikki Kitty

She has her own purrrsonal site, http://www.purrskitty.com, too