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A young boy walks toward his cage. His tail wags furiously as he
nuzzles the boy's hand with his nose. His body warms to the touch;
his spirit soars. "Maybe this is the one. Maybe this is the one
who will be my new best friend, my buddy, my owner". His whole body
wiggles with happiness. "Please. Take me home with you. We can run
and play, and I'll be warm and loved again. Please. Don't walk away.
Give me a chance. That's all I ask". Oh no! He's stopping at the
cage with the new puppy in it. "Please come back. I don't want to
be alone anymore. I don't want to die! PLEASE! I want to live!"
A moment later he returns to the tattered blanket in the corner.
The puppy cage is empty. And a teardrop falls.
This situation occurs daily at shelters all over the world. We have
a tendency to dismiss the older dog in favor of the puppy. Six years
ago, I found myself in a similar situation. My dog, Wrangler, had
passed away a few months before and my house was much too empty.
I decided to take a look at the dogs for adoption at a local shelter.
I brought neither leash nor collar. My intention was merely to look.
As I walked past the row of cages, one dog caught my eye. She was
a Lab X, just as my Wrangler had been. I glanced at the paper hanging
from her cage and saw that she was estimated to be about four years
old. She stood on her back legs and her paws reached my shoulders.
She was almost taller than me. This was not at all what I had in
mind. I wanted a medium sized, younger dog.
I wandered to the end of the row and turned to leave. As I passed
her cage, she was lying down, face resting on the hard, cold cement.
Only her eyes looked up at me. They were the eyes of my Wrangler!
I noticed the date on the paper. This was to be her last day on
Earth. I left the shelter with a new leash, new collar, and a new
perspective. I named her Pepper. The dog that sat in the passenger
seat and halfway across my lap, was not exactly what I had in mind.
As I drove from the shelter, I knew I had made a decision of the
heart. I now had a "pound puppy…a death row dog", and vowed to give
her a better life.
Being a responsible pet owner, I made an appointment to have her
spayed. Pepper apparently had other ideas. As I opened the door
one day, she bolted past me, only to return a few hours later looking
very tired. Two weeks later, when she should have been undergoing
anesthesia in preparation of her spaying, I was being handed information
on the birth of puppies! On January 4, 1995, Pepper presented me
with thirteen of the most adorable Lab X puppies I have ever seen!
My house was no longer empty. It was full of love!
Read more on the heart-warming life of Little
Bit, a Pepper puppy born a non-breather, who now spends his
time breathing life and happiness into the lives of the elderly
as a therapy dog. Another decision of the heart…keeping the blind
runt of the litter.
Story by Arlene
and featured in Storytime Tapestry and Themestream.
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