Yes I finally get a moment to just blog for no reason lol. A lot has happened over the last two weeks or so, Nan is expecting yet again lol, faith-online, boundless realms and next tuesday are all moving to a new server, Wil‘s still all sexy so that hasn’t changed lol, and KOO’s had some big updates.

*yawn* I’m so tired, I haven’t been sleeping like I want to, I don’t even have time to change layouts here like I used to, I seriously need to take some time away from the WWW for awhile. I need to start sleeeeeeping lol.

I’ve gotten BangGraphix.biz all re-laid out which is a load off my mind, I’ve been procrastinating which isn’t hard to do when you have as much going on as I do right now.

Lost yet another job, the joblessness out here is getting rediculous, and kinda scary. I’m scared that I’ll spend my entire life in this mid-missouri hell hole, scrubbing floors and washing dishes. *sigh* I was better off when I was sleeping in the bus depot in Bellingham.

These are off topic but really worth the read, the second one seriously made me tear up.

‘Tis the night before Christmas,

and all through the town,

every shelter is full – we are lost but not found,

Our numbers are hung on our kennels so bare,

we hope every minute that someone will care,

They’ll come to adopt us and give us the call,

“Come here, Max and Sparkie – come fetch your new ball!”

But now we sit here and think of the days..

we were treated so fondly – we had cute, baby ways,

Once we were little, then we grew and we grew -

now we’re no longer young and we’re no longer new.

So out the back door we were thrown like the trash,

they reacted so quickly – why were they so rash?

We “jump on the children”, “don’t come when they call”,

we “bark when they leave us”, climb over the wall.

This story was one of the first incentives to

create Powerpets, to bring attention and awareness to animals

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. 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 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.

A Note from the Author:

If "How Could You?" brought tears to your eyes as you read it,

as it did to mine as I wrote it, it is because it is the composite story

of the millions of formerly "owned" pets who die each year in

American and Canadian animal shelters. Anyone is welcome to distribute

the essay for a noncommercial purpose, as long as it is properly

attributed with the copyright notice. Please use it to help educate, on

your websites, in newsletters, on animal shelter and vet office bulletin

boards. Tell the public that the decision to add a pet to the family is

an important one for life, that animals deserve our love and sensible

care, that finding another appropriate home for your animal is your

responsibility and any local humane society or animal welfare league can

offer you good advice, and that all life is precious. Please do your

part to stop the killing, and encourage all spay and neuter campaigns in

order to prevent unwanted animals. Jim Willis

BEFORE YOU COMMENT: Please understand that, though I'm all for free speech, I'm also busy and downright mean. Because of this I will not tolerate offensive, inappropriate or hateful comments. I'll warn you and delete the offensive part, but if you repeat the offense I'll probably ban you from the domain. I'm sorry, but I just don't have time for spam, racism, and so on and so on. Just to note: What I find offensive? Is what we'll call offensive, this being my blog and all. ;)