When I was a puppy, I entertained you with my antics and made you laugh. You called me your child, and despite several chewed shoes and a few murdered pillows, I became your best friend.

Whenever I was naughty, you'd wag your finger at me and ask How can you? but then we'd have fun together.

My education took a little longer than expected, because you were terribly busy, but we worked at it together.

I remember those nights when I'd snoop in bed and listen to your secret confidences and dreams, and I thought life couldn't get any more perfect. We went for long walks and runs in the park, car rides, ice cream stops (I only got the cone because ice cream is bad for dogs, as you said), and I would take long naps in the sun waiting for you to come home.

Gradually, you started spending more time at work and focusing on your career, and more time looking for a human companion. I waited patiently for you, consoled you after every heartbreak and disappointment, never berated you about bad decisions, and frolicked with joy when you returned home, and then you fell in love.

She, now your wife, is not a dog person but 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 arrived and I shared your excitement. I was fascinated by their pink color, their smell, and I wanted to doll them up too.

Only you worried that I might hurt them, and I spent most of my time banished to another room or a kennel.

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 stood up on their wobbly legs, pushed their fingers into my eyes, searched my ears, and gave me kisses on the nose.

I loved everything about them and their caresses (because yours were now so infrequent) and would have defended them with my life if need be. I'd go to their beds and listen to their secret worries and dreams, and together we'd wait for the sound of your car in the driveway.

There was a time when others would ask you if you had a dog and you'd ask for a picture of me in your wallet and tell them stories about me. In recent years, you'd just say yes and change the subject.

I went from being your dog to just a dog, and you took offense at every expense to me.

Now you have a new career opportunity in another city, and you're moving to an apartment that doesn't allow pets.

You made the right choice 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, fear, desperation.

You filled out the paperwork and said I know you'll find a good home for her. They shrugged and gave you a saddened look. They understand the reality that faces a dog between two ages, even one with papers.

You had to force your son's fingers to untie them from my collar and he screamed No, Dad! Please don't let them take my dog! And I worried for him, what lessons had you just taught him about friendship and loyalty, about love and responsibility, and about respect for all life. You gave me a goodbye-caress on the head, avoided my eyes, and refused to take my necklace with you. After you left, the two nice ladies said you probably knew about your departure months ago and did nothing to find me another good home. They shook their heads and said How can that be?

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 several days ago. At first, every time someone passed by my cage, I'd hurry up and hope it was you, that you'd changed your mind, that it was just a bad dream... or I'd at least hope it was someone who cared about me and could save me.

When I realized I couldn't compete with the other puppies frolicking for attention, I retreated to a corner of the cage and waited.

I heard her footsteps as she approached me at the end of the day, and tramped down the aisle to a separate room.

A fortunately 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 survived the days. As is my nature, I worried more about her. The burden she carries weighs heavily on her, and I know it, the same way I know your mood every day. She placed a chain gently around my front paw and a tear rolled down her cheek. I licked her hand the same way I comforted you so many years ago. She slipped the hypodermic needle deftly into my vein. When I felt the sting and liquid spread through my body, I dozed off, examined her with my kind eyes and murmured How could you? Maybe because she understood my language, she said I'm so sorry.

She hugged me, and hastily explained that 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 provide for myself, a place filled with love and light very different from this place.

And with my last energies, I tried to transport myself to her and explain with a thud of my tail that my How could you? was not directed at 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 such loyalty.

copyright jim willis 2001

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