Letters to a Dog
>
> January 6
> Dear Dog,
> I saw you today for the first time, just a couple houses from my own the
> school bus stopped to let out your kids, and your mom opened the front
door
> to let you run out and greet them. You are a wiggly, bouncy, and happy
> little puppy with a full belly and a shiny coat. Your kids grabbed you up,
> hugged you, held you and toted you inside. Your tail was wagging the
entire
> time. I thought to my self, how sweet, what a way to end a long hard day.
I
> spoke to your mom this evening and she said that they got you from the
> Animal Shelter, and the kids named you Lucky.
>
> March 10
> Dear Lucky,
> I saw you today as I always do on my way home from work. You were already
> outside to greet the kids today, which seemed a little odd. The little
girl
> got off the bus and shooed you away, she appeared to not want you jumping
> on her. The boy got off the bus and gave you a quick playful pat on the
> head, then smelled his hand and brushed you aside. You looked confused and
> sad, as you went to lie by the porch. You curled up in a tight ball on the
> cold ground and let out a huge sigh. My heart felt heavy that day.
>
> March 21
> Dear Lucky,
> I saw you today, I was headed home and the kids got off the bus, walked to
> the house, and you ran out as far as you could on your heavy chain to let
> them know you were there. The little girl ignored you, the little boy told
> you to be quiet, when you barked for his attention. My neighbor commented
> that they needed to do something with your barking because you keep them
up
> at night. You had a bucket of water and a bowl of food, a relatively nice
> dog-house, but your eyes were sad and empty. I shook my head and let out a
> huge sigh.
>
> April 30
> Dear Lucky,
> I worried for you today. You look thin, your chain heavy on your neck,
your
> coat is dirty and falling out, you don't get up to do much anymore. Your
> bucket is turned over, and I have not seen your food bowl for a few days
> now. I spoke to the neighbor and asked about you. He said you still bark
at
> night and he saw the man of the house throw something at you the other day
> as he scolded you. I shook my head in despair as I went back into my
house.
>
> June 4
> Dear Lucky,
> My heart sank today, I was headed home and you weren't in your yard. A
> large part of me hoped you got away, another large part of me was
> frightened at all the other possibilities. I asked my neighbor about you,
> and he said your family went on vacation and sent you back to the Animal
> Shelter. I shook my head and cried for you as I went into my house.
>
> June 5
> Dear Dog,
> I went to the shelter today, I found you huddled in the back of a cage
that
> had a bucket, a bowl of food, and a blanket for you to lie on. You looked
> up at me as if you knew me, and my heart broke as I read your card. They
> did not even care enough to give them your name and the card simply said,
> male, neutered retriever mix. Owners did not want.
>
> I cried when a gentleman from the kennel said, "That's a sad one there. He
> came from here you know, last Christmas. Guess they just got tired of him.
> He's too frightened, no one will adopt him."
>
> I went to the counter and told them I would be back tomorrow and please
> don't do anything just yet. They all kind of nodded like they heard that
> one before.
>
> June 6
> Dear Dog,
> I brought you home today. You were scared and untrusting, but a small part
> of you somewhere allowed you to wag the tip of your tail when I told you
> that you were a good boy and that I loved you.
>
> I gave you a new name, " Happy", because you aren't and I hope that
someday
> you will be. You had an accident on the floor, and when I came back to
> clean it up with paper towel you slunk down and whimpered as if the hand
> was coming for you. I tried to choke back the tears when I thought of what
> you must have gone through in the past six months. I reached out and
patted
> you and your eyes closed and your body went limp at such a gentle gesture.
> "We're going to be alright," I told you. I showed you your food and you
ate
> voraciously, and you marveled at the treats and toys I got for you.
>
> December 25
> Dear Happy,
> Good morning my best friend! You woke me, as always, popping out from
under
> the covers on your side of the bed, licking my face to tell me it was time
> for our walk. We went through the living room and you sniffed what Santa
> left for us. I hugged you and said, " Last year you were a Christmas gift,
> now this year, these are all yours!"
>
> Your coat is shiny, your belly always full, and even though we found out
at
> your first vet visit you had heartworms, you are healthy now. As we went
> out for our walk, we saw your old family in the front yard, they look at
> you each time as if they recognize you in a way, but you don't give them a
> second glance. --- Then I believe both our hearts stopped as we saw the
> children emerge from the yard holding a small playful puppy.
>
> "Isn't she just precious? We got her from the animal shelter. Hope this
one
> works out, the other dog we got from there was so much trouble."
>
> I sighed and refrained from pointing out that you were not the trouble.
You
> looked up at me as if to say, " Thank you mom." I kneeled down and
> whispered in your sweet ear, " No, it is I who thank you."
>
>
>
> I am sorry if this is a sad story, but unfortunately not all Christmas
> Puppies and Kitties have such happy endings, and thankfully some don't
have
> such sad stories. The moral of this tale? Whether you get a pet from a
> shelter, a pet store, a breeder, or a private litter, this animal, is a
> living and feeling being, who will depend on you for everything. He will
> need love, patience, and kindness, as he is taught manners and
> housebreaking. There are no bad pets, just those who need a good
foundation
> to start off life. A pet is for life, and a pet is family.