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 bellyrub.
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 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 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 in here at 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 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 realised 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 into 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 dogspeak, she said, ‘I’m so sorry’. She hugged me and hurriedly explained that 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.
Oliver, this story made me cry, and I know other people have said that. But I haven’t cried in 5 years, since my mom committed suicide. Since then, I wasn’t able to cry, not even at her funeral. And without an emotional outlet like crying, last year I cut myself and drank. But this story made me cry. Thank you so much.
Wow, Oliver, that was some text you made. I never thought of it from that perspective, and now… well, I would love to have a dog. I’m going to go and cuddle my cat a bit now though.
I should have just said “tl;dr” and been done with it…
That episode of Futurama made me cry too. Poor Fry’s dog.
They’re so loyal and resilient, it’s so sad…
Even dogs that have been bred and abused for fighting all their lives
will protect their masters and their families to the death.
Dogs are fucking amazing, I’m going to go cuddle my puppy now… )’:
i see what u did there… nice reference.. btw that episode made me cry when i first saw it..and the 2nd time.. and maybe the 3rd.. bt it was probably just a tear lol
Poor Dog
why do you always make it so sad
Nice Futurama reference in the Alt-Text.
I’m curious though, Did you ever go back?
wheres my happy ending dain L?
Enzo let me down mate
Sorry guy :[
happy ending’s are for wimps
Come on man… don’t make me feel sad….
Why is little bear sad?
The futurama reference almost make me cry.
That episode was so sad T^T
I loved that episode!
Another Futurama episode that made me cry was the one with the time skips and chronotons >_<
This makes me really sad
You should have named him Seymour Asses
I can’t watch that episode anymore.
T___T I only ever saw it once and it’s just too depressing.
I sat there going “What!? T___T NO! Get back in there! And make this ending less HORRIBLE! >:O”
Does this happen to be an extended metaphor about you and the webcomic?
Lol. I see what you did there.
Yeah, I deserved that.
AWWWWWWWWWWW SNAP!!!!!!!
You just got owned…… verbally of course.
this is the saddest thing ever.
BAWWWWWW
dude wtf i have a dog and i would never leave him and dogs get sad my old dog on his last days on earth he looked and was sad
Enzo, i can’t help but notice that the kid looks EXACTLY like you’re picture.
awwwww
Awwww!
Heeeey…. This says cheer up. Emo kid… Not get more emo, emo kid! :<
this is really sad
awwwwww, poor doggyyyy
wow this made me surprisingly depressed. o_o
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 bellyrub.
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 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 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 in here at 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 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 realised 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 into 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 dogspeak, she said, ‘I’m so sorry’. She hugged me and hurriedly explained that 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.
Oh my.
That was incredible – to a point where I really don’t know how to praise it.
And it makes me want to go give my dog a hug.
really sets everything into perspective doesn’t it?
You made me cry.
tl;dr
Oliver, this story made me cry, and I know other people have said that. But I haven’t cried in 5 years, since my mom committed suicide. Since then, I wasn’t able to cry, not even at her funeral. And without an emotional outlet like crying, last year I cut myself and drank. But this story made me cry. Thank you so much.
Aw… Poor dog.
deep shit
what u?
wouldn’t he have died in like dog years or somethin
Holy shit.
Love it. The dog can live forever!!!!
Wow, Oliver, that was some text you made. I never thought of it from that perspective, and now… well, I would love to have a dog. I’m going to go and cuddle my cat a bit now though.
that made me sad
Olivers story really brought me to tears..like omg I felt that.
Dayumm…
Awww, this made me miss my dog so much
I wish I could have another doggy…
awww
i feel like hugging my doggies now.
Oliver, you made me cry tons.
I should have just said “tl;dr” and been done with it…
That episode of Futurama made me cry too. Poor Fry’s dog.
They’re so loyal and resilient, it’s so sad…
Even dogs that have been bred and abused for fighting all their lives
will protect their masters and their families to the death.
Dogs are fucking amazing, I’m going to go cuddle my puppy now… )’:
Thats exactly the message
Everyone hug your dogs.
AWWW i think i almost cried in that episode of Futurama!
wow. jerk. so sad. i hate it…..
imm go cry now. cuz tht happend to me ….just we didnt have any1 to give him to. so ….i never saw him again :’C JERk!
Wow. this is sad. this is so sad that everyone forgot its ur 123 comic! JERK shame on you you ruined my perfect day.
i see what u did there… nice reference.. btw that episode made me cry when i first saw it..and the 2nd time.. and maybe the 3rd.. bt it was probably just a tear lol