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First off, I'm going to try and entertain you with a few quick stories of what I have been up to... Grades will be coming out next week, and so far my lowest grade is a B, so I'm hoping my parents won't get to mad... Monique and Badger got in trouble for making out in Travis and mine spot, cops came and everything o.O; sweatdrop That's what they get! mad Our spot b***h! mad >.< The other day we had a make out contest to see who's spot it was.. sounds kind of weird not that I look at it in words.. o.O But Travis and I won! ^^ Cause we cuddled! ^^ Only uncaring bf make out all that time, you need to cuddle people! gonk YA! ^^ *huggles Travis* I love my Travis! He's just so perfect! ^^ I still can't get over that! ^^ I didn't get to talk to him though Friday and Saturday night, since I lost my cellphone, got grounded for going to Cessy's and Kasandra's apartment after school, see, Joey left and all that, I tried calling my parents, and they wouldn't answer, so after waiting half an hour, I finally just went, they have a hamster and a bird! OH! B.G.! He's so cute! ^^ BG is this cute puppy, poor dog, someone spray painted it and dipped it's tail, but it got along great with Mrs. Daily, practice was even delayed and all that since she was playing with the puppy! ^^ She called me over to check the dog real fast to make sure it was okay and I had to let her know ti was just spray paint and not blood, whee cute doggy! ^^ Actually, I kind of just went over there, doggy doggy doggy! ^^ It was cute, really, normally I don't go all flippy like this! sweatdrop
OMD! AH! I was going to try and mess with R.P. and Travis since neither one has seen each other and try and act like the other guys account was my mule or something, but R.P. and Travis both killed it with the 'but he said something' blah blah .. and I got to curious.. curses! Foiled again! blaugh
So yup, okay, now here is a story I use to read over and over, the only thing I ever have, and it has always made me cry, then I lost it.. I finally found it again today, so here it is:




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. 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



Copyright Jim Willis 1999
Excerpted from his book "Pieces of My Heart - Writings Inspired by Animals and Nature"