Dear Furbabies,
I just read an article on Facebook that really hurt me. It was about a dog who had been shot for no reason, by a stranger. His parents took him to the vet, went outside to discuss the cost of surgery, and never returned. I presume they couldn’t or didn’t want to afford the cost of surgery, but I just can’t imagine leaving any one of you to wonder if I were going to return. I’d never do that. When I bring you home, it’s forever, for better or worse, and I mean it 100%.
I know that I’m your whole world. I know that because I see the way you look at me, the way you greet me at the door when I come home. The way you snuggle against me, or nudge my hand when I’m not paying close enough attention to you. I know that I’m your only source of food and water, but what you want from me more than those basics is my love and attention. Sometimes I get busy or stressed and don’t think about it the way I should. I’m sorry for that. It doesn’t mean that I love you less; it just means that I’m human: selfish and flawed.
Even if I don’t always give you enough attention or playtime, I promise you that I love you and will never leave you behind. I’d rather live with you in a cardboard box than alone in a mansion. I’ll be with you until the end. I’ll make the hard decisions when I have to, because that’s what I took on when I brought you home. Whenever that time comes, I take comfort in knowing that you, and all the ones who’ve gone before, will be waiting at the Rainbow Bridge.
It doesn’t matter what happens: there will always be room for you in my life. That’s a promise.
Doree Weller 