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A lil something to think about...an animal's perspective.

bpoppapumpp

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A man in Grand Rapids, Michigan incredibly took out a $7000 full page ad in the paper to present the following essay to the people of his community.


HOW COULD YOU? - By Jim Willis, 2001


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 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. 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 & Canadian animal shelters. Please use this 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 & neuter campaigns in order to prevent unwanted animals.


Please pass this on to everyone, not to hurt them or make them sad, but it could save maybe, even one, unwanted pet. Remember...They love UNCONDITIONALLY.

Now that the tears are rolling down your face, pass it on! Send to everyone in your address book and around the world! This IS the reality of dogs given up to shelters!
 
And the cat's in the cradle with the silver spoon....such is life.
 
A man in Grand Rapids, Michigan incredibly took out a $7000 full page ad in the paper to present the following essay to the people of his community.


HOW COULD YOU? - By Jim Willis, 2001


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 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. 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 & Canadian animal shelters. Please use this 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 & neuter campaigns in order to prevent unwanted animals.


Please pass this on to everyone, not to hurt them or make them sad, but it could save maybe, even one, unwanted pet. Remember...They love UNCONDITIONALLY.

Now that the tears are rolling down your face, pass it on! Send to everyone in your address book and around the world! This IS the reality of dogs given up to shelters!
I have had animals all my life. I own a dog that I have raised from six weeks old. He and his brother. His brother died in July this year from heart failure but I did everything I could to see him through a quality of life and also a painless death. He lives on through his brother, now nearly eight. My point being is you are in it for life with these guys or not in it at all. My boy goes where I go or I don't go!!!

A very touching story.....sad but all to true.
 
Damn...:(
 
Yeah!...My wife had to take our min. dover to the shelter...They told her they would make sure she (min. dover.) got a good home...2 weeks later my wife took our children to check on (lexie)...They informed my wife they had put her to sleep!...What douch'es!...Claimed that she snapped at a few people and that was thier ploicy...They could of called us and we would have taken her back and found some loving owners ourselves!...Our kids are still devastated!...PRICKS!...





LIPS
 
So sad

That is the truth....how sad though. People don't understand the responsibilities that come with owning a pet. When you decide to take a pet on it should be forever. My dogs go wherever I go and if they can't then I find another solution that will accomdate them! They are MY responsibility no one elses!
 
Yeah!...My wife had to take our min. dover to the shelter...They told her they would make sure she (min. dover.) got a good home...2 weeks later my wife took our children to check on (lexie)...They informed my wife they had put her to sleep!...What douch'es!...Claimed that she snapped at a few people and that was thier ploicy...They could of called us and we would have taken her back and found some loving owners ourselves!...Our kids are still devastated!...PRICKS!...
LIPS

You dumped a pet at a shelter?
 
Yeah!...My wife had to take our min. dover to the shelter...They told her they would make sure she (min. dover.) got a good home...2 weeks later my wife took our children to check on (lexie)...They informed my wife they had put her to sleep!...What douch'es!...Claimed that she snapped at a few people and that was thier ploicy...They could of called us and we would have taken her back and found some loving owners ourselves!...Our kids are still devastated!...PRICKS!...





LIPS

The fault lies with you for taking the dog there.

Why the hell would they call you and say will you take her back when you made it evident you didnt want her by taking her there in the first place.

to then traumatise the animal by visiting it and give it false hope that it was going back to its home.

you didnt take it to a holiday camp. the animal would have been scared and confused so it probably did snap out. but thats you're fault for creating that situation.

so in the end sir.... you are the prick.
 
NEVER FUCKING EVER give your pet up to a shelter unless it SPECIFICALLY says it's a NO KILL. Most pets have either 72 hours to a week to live before they are euthed. I've volunteered at many shelters and been there when SO many of them have been put down. Watching the life leaving a sentient being's eyes is as powerfully painful as if it were a human.
If you can't handle the responsibility, don't fucking get an animal! And to anyone I see abusing an animal, or handling roughly, like my neighbor across the street, I will fuck them up HARDCORE. I went over there and almost got arrested for nearly caving this guy's head in for mistreating his puppy.
 
Yeah!...My wife had to take our min. dover to the shelter...They told her they would make sure she (min. dover.) got a good home...2 weeks later my wife took our children to check on (lexie)...They informed my wife they had put her to sleep!...What douch'es!...Claimed that she snapped at a few people and that was thier ploicy...They could of called us and we would have taken her back and found some loving owners ourselves!...Our kids are still devastated!...PRICKS!...





LIPS

Dude, your ignorance caused the death of an innocent sentient being. That's a stain on your soul brother. Blood on YOUR hands.
 
Sad friggin read. If you take on the responsibility of an animal, like others have said, it's for life. However, there are circumstances when it just can't continue, YOU find a responsible owner, don't let the shelter do it! My family has picked up kittens off the street and they lived their lives out with us, 14-16 yrs. Do not get an animal if you can not or will not take care of it, point blank!
 
The fault lies with you for taking the dog there.

Why the hell would they call you and say will you take her back when you made it evident you didnt want her by taking her there in the first place.

to then traumatise the animal by visiting it and give it false hope that it was going back to its home.

you didnt take it to a holiday camp. the animal would have been scared and confused so it probably did snap out. but thats you're fault for creating that situation.

so in the end sir.... you are the prick.

Agreed,the dog didn't take itself to the shelter.People need to wake the fuck up to the responsibility of pet owning.thanks for pointing that out bro
 
I'm prob. one of the biggest animal lovers there is. I rescued as many as I could from the shelter over time. I now have two dogs and two(indoor) cats. That was as many that I felt comfortable with and that I could properly take care of.

I feel that I've done my part so I don't feel guilty. However, I cannot go to the shelter because I'm prone to rescue more...I'm just a softy like that.

Just the way some people get mad when a child or a woman is abused physically/other....I want to crack the skull of an animal abuser because I almost can't control myself when it comes to that.

Shit, I still hate Vick.......Sorry, my bad....Let's not turn this into that type of thread/discussion.:eek:

But, if you can provide a good home and care for one, go rescue an animal from your local shelter and make sure any domestic pet you have is spayed/nuetered.

Pass this info onto your contacts in your personal email.:)
 
I told my girl straight up when we started dating that if she didn't like dogs it wouldn't last past the 2nd day. My dog is my best friend and there is no way I would trade a best friend that has been there for me for a new person.

Maybe I am crazy but that is how I was...


On side note, she loves my dog, so it all turned out to be a win/win situation!
 
People drop dogs at shelters thinking they will go to a good home.
The reality is the shelter is a death sentence.....that is the likely scenario. Save them the heartache of abandonment....it is more humane to take them to a vet to be euthanized.
 

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