Please register to participate in our discussions with 2 million other members - it's free and quick! Some forums can only be seen by registered members. After you create your account, you'll be able to customize options and access all our 15,000 new posts/day with fewer ads.
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, age 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 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, comforte 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, 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 Ihoped 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 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. 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 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.
Yeah,
I think anyone with any kind of obnoxious or life-intrusive animal (chronically smelly, badly behaved, not toilet trained) is kind of a deal-breaker for me. I would also rather not have anything to do with cats or rodents in my house, but if they don't fall under the above criteria, it wouldn't be a complete and total dealbreaker. I would just wonder what kind of grown-up keeps rodents as pets.
I do require that people like and get along with my two dogs. I strive hard to keep them well-mannered and well-groomed.
Hello. Rats make great pets. See above post about pet prejudice. Why must others be required to like your dogs but you can be put off by their non-dog pets?
It is a problem if the person believes their pet is superior to all other animals and most people. My dog is better/smarter/cuter than your dog and anyone who has cats or birds or rabbits is dumb. How can you not think my dog is godlike!
Is there a post I missed? Who is saying this?
Quote:
Originally Posted by Antlered Chamataka
It was a part of mine too. Although less number of dogs, the cats multiplied like crazy and still lived in the house. When I was little I cried when a dog died, but then I thought I grew up into adulthood and am not going back to the days of shedding tears over an animal, which is not going to outlive a human, anyway, unless we're talking a 150-year old spider here
If you want to avoid suffering over losing a loved-one, that's your choice, and it's understandable. Some avoid all kinds of relationships to thwart potential suffering.
Quote:
It's not hypocritical, lady. I strive to draw a line where I will not obsess over the pets and let them control my lifestyle.
Who is talking about obsession? I think you're attempting to create a straw man here and it's not flying.
Quote:
I have known people who are OCD on cleanliness. Now, consider a house that's filled with stench owing to the pets, and to make this person comply with the house rules, literally driving pet rules down their throats and even rejecting a great and potential long-time partner based on a pet is just beyond me
Do you live in bizarro world? Who is being forced to do anything? If you don't want to live with animals, then don't. It's as simple as that.
Quote:
And I can understand why some consider pets to be better. They don't speak, they can't think, they can't offend, they sit down and stand up by the finger. This kind of a personal slave mentality won't cut with a human.
Animals do think. They have brains. Sure, they don't think like humans. They have their own trip going on. And they can be just as annoying as humans, but again, in their own way.
Hello. Rats make great pets. See above post about pet prejudice. Why must others be required to like your dogs but you can be put off by their non-dog pets?
I never said rats didn't make great pets. And I'm allowed to set whatever criteria I want for whoever my mate is. And the other person is, as well. So what I'm looking for is a non-rat-owning dog lover.
I never said rats didn't make great pets. And I'm allowed to set whatever criteria I want for whoever my mate is. And the other person is, as well. So what I'm looking for is a non-rat-owning dog lover.
That's fine. It was more the comment that questions what kind of person would own a rodent. One who likes them? Maybe a person who wants to save a few from being snake meal.
That's fine. It was more the comment that questions what kind of person would own a rodent. One who likes them? Maybe a person who wants to save a few from being snake meal.
My approach to both pets and people is a team approach. I understand that people enjoy having little creatures to care for and play with, but I prefer my 'pets' to be contributing family members/friends who have my back as I have theirs. There's direct and clear mutual communication, trust, and loyalty, and concern for comfort and well-being. These are things domestic dogs have been bred to do and they are specialists at it.
I am not sure how a rodent or even a cat can do that, so I prefer not to have them as pets. I don't see the point of personally caring for or housing an animal who couldn't give a crap about me no matter how well they pretend to.
But if you get some satisfaction from keeping them around, it's none of my business. Power to you.
They're not kids. They're animals. Yeah, they're animals you're fond of, and they're animals you want to treat humanely, but they're not surrogate children. If you left your dog or cat in somebody else's responsible care, you might be missed a day or two. Maybe the dog would say, "I wonder what happened to the ape who used to feed me?" But that's about it.
They're animals to you. My cats are children to me! I have to disagree about them not missing their owners. I had to go away for a week when my uncle died and my one cat stayed in the window looking for me and waiting for me to come home. Titi was left in the care of my husband but it didn't matter...he wanted me!
Please register to post and access all features of our very popular forum. It is free and quick. Over $68,000 in prizes has already been given out to active posters on our forum. Additional giveaways are planned.
Detailed information about all U.S. cities, counties, and zip codes on our site: City-data.com.
Please register to participate in our discussions with 2 million other members - it's free and quick! Some forums can only be seen by registered members. After you create your account, you'll be able to customize options and access all our 15,000 new posts/day with fewer ads.
One who likes them? Maybe a person who wants to save a few from being snake meal.
