pitsandrottsforlife.com Blog

Letters To A Dog

December 12, 2008 on 8:16 am | In Uncategorized | No Comments

Letters To A Dog~~~Source Unknown

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 doghouse, 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 all right,” 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.
”