December 17, 2011 § 15 Comments
A warning to my animal loving friends, who are legion: You don’t have read this if you don’t want your heart dawg-broke, albeit that is certainly a noble injury. I’d like to take this moment to thank you for all that you do, all those acts of kindness that I believe are collected somewhere on a tablet that smells faintly of liver.
This story really begins ten thousand years ago, when humans told the wolf: We want to create pure love from you. We want to create from you an animal called a dawg who will love us. Come out of the woods, set down your rabbits and your squirrels, and we will promise you three things: A hearth, someone who knows your story, and someone who loves you to say your name.
Now, ten thousand years later, we break that promise in the worst way two million times a year, in curiously-titled “shelters” around the country.
Enter Sammy. He was an old man – somewhere around ten – taken to one of these “shelters” by some “people” who got a puppy that Sammy didn’t get along with. So they starved and neglected him. He was rescued by my friends Blake,Kim, Kathy, Clair, Lynda and Elaine. He was in bad shape, and they found a tumor but couldn’t operate because he was so weak.
This morning I set off to go get him in Palmdale, California. I was three steps to my car when I got the phone call. Sammy wasn’t going to make it. He was too sick and too weak and his worst illness – his owners – had finally got the best of him.
Here’s the hearth that was waiting for him. I may be able to get his ashes, and I will put him above that hearth.
So in a roundabout, terribly ironic and tragic way, Sammy may get his three promises:
A hearth, someone who knows his story, and someone who loves him to say his name.