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A DISEASE CALLED TRUST
There is a deadly disease stalking your dog, a
hideous, stealthy thing just waiting its chance to steal your beloved
friend. It is not a new
disease, or one for which there is an inoculation.
The disease is called "Trust."
You knew before you ever took your puppy home that it
could not be trusted. The breeder, who provided you with this precious
animal warned you, drummed it into your head.
Puppies steal off counters, destroy anything expensive, chase cats,
take forever to house train, and must never be allowed off lead!!!
When the big day finally arrived, heeding the sage
advice of the breeder, you escorted your puppy to his new home, properly
collared and tagged, the lead held tightly in your hand.
At home, the house was "puppy proofed."
Everything of value was stored in the spare bedroom, garbage stored on top
of the refrigerator. Cats
separated, and a gate placed across the living room to keep at least one
part of the house "puddle free."
All the windows and doors had been properly secured, and signs
placed in all strategic points reminding all to "Close the door!"
Soon it becomes second nature to make sure the door
closes nine tenths of a second after it was opened and that it is really
latched. "Don't let the
dog out" is your second most verbalized expression. (The first is
"NO!") You worry and
fuss constantly, terrified that your darling will get out and disaster will
surely follow. Your friends
comment about who you love most, your family or the dog. You know that to
relax your vigil for a moment might lose him to you forever.
And so the weeks and months pass, with your puppy
becoming more civilized every day, and the seeds of trust are planted.
It seems that each new day brings less destruction, less breakage.
Almost before you know it, your gangly, slurpy puppy has turned into
an elegant, dignified friend.
Now that he is a more reliable, sedate companion, you
take him more places. No longer does he chew the steering wheel when left
in the car. And darn it if that
cake wasn't still on the counter this morning.
And, oh yes, wasn't that the cat he was sleeping with so cozily on
your pillow last night?
At this point you are beginning to become infected,
the disease is spreading its roots deep into your mind.
And then one of your friends suggests obedience classes and after a
time, you even let him run loose from the car into the house when you get
home. Why not, he always runs
straight to the door, dancing a frenzy of joy and waits to be let in.
And, remember he comes ever time he is called.
You know he is the exception that disproves the rule.
(And sometimes late at night, you even let him slip out the front
door to go potty and then right back in).
Years pass.
It's hard to remember why you ever worried so much
when he was a puppy. He would
never think of running out the door left open while you bring in the
packages from the car. It would
be beneath his dignity to jump out the window of the car while you run into
the convenience store. And when
you take him for those wonderful, long walks at dawn, it only takes one
whistle to send him racing back to you in a burst of speed when the walk
becomes too close to the highway. He
still gets in the garbage, but nobody is perfect.
This is the time the disease has waited for so
patiently. Sometimes it only
has to wait a year or two, but often it takes much longer.
He spies the neighborhood dog across the street and suddenly forgets
everything he ever knew about not slipping outdoors, jumping out windows or
coming when called due to traffic. Perhaps
it was only a paper fluttering in the breeze, or even just the sheer joy of
running...
Stopped in an instant.
Stilled forever, your heart is broken at the sight of his still
body.
The disease is trust.
The final outcome--hit by a car.
Every morning for seven years my dog bounced around
off lead exploring.
Every morning for seven years he came back when he was
called.
He was perfectly obedience, perfectly trustworthy.
He died fourteen hours after being hit by a car.
Please do not risk your friend and your heart.
Save the trust for things that don't matter.
Please read this every year on your puppy's birthday,
lest we forget.
~Author Unknown~
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