Kako si lahko to storil?(by Jim Willis)

Copyrights: Jim Willis, 2001

Ko sem bil mladiček, sem te zabaval s svojimi akrobacijami in te spravljal v smeh. Klical si me moj otročiček in prezrl množico prežvečenih čevljev ter nekaj “umorjenih” blazin. Postal sem tvoj najboljši prijatelj. Kadar sem bil poreden, si požugal s prstom in mi rekel: “Kako si lahko storil kaj takšnega?”, ampak potem si se me usmilil ter me popraskal po trebuščku.

Moje privajanje stanovanju je trajalo malo dlje, ker si bil zelo zaposlen, toda družno sva opravljala tvoje delo. Spominjam se noči, ko sem se stisnil k tebi v posteljo in poslušal tvoje izpovedi ter tihe sanje in verjel, da življenje ne more biti lepše. Hodila sva na dolge sprehode v park, skupaj sva tekla, se vozila z avtom, se ustavila na sladoledu (jaz sem dobil samo tulec, ker si dejal, da sladoled ni za pse). Cele dneve sem dremal na soncu in čakal, da prideš domov.

Sčasoma si vedno več časa preživel v službi, ustvarjal svojo kariero in iskal svojo življenjsko družico. Čakal sem te potrpežljivo, te podpiral, ko si bil razočaran in zlomljenega srca. Nikoli nisem grajal tvojih slabih odločitev, se pritoževal nad glasnimi nočnimi prihodi. Niti takrat, ko si se zaljubil.

Tudi njo, ki je sedaj tvoja žena, čeprav ne mara psov, sem sprejel v najin dom, ji pokazal naklonjenost in jo ubogal. Bil sem srečen zato, ker si bil ti srečen. Potem sta dobila otroka in s tabo sem delil navdušenje. Očarala me je otrokova rožnata polt, njegov vonj in tudi jaz sem želel skrbeti zanj. Vendar mi nista zaupala. Zaprla sta me v drugo sobo ali pasjo košaro, da mu ne bi kaj storil. Ne veš, kako zelo sem si želel njegove bližine in ljubezni, toda postal sem “ujetnik ljubezni”.

Ko je odraščal, sem postal njegov prijatelj. Oprijel se je moje dlake, se dvignil na svojih majavih nožicah, raziskoval s svojimi prstki po mojih ušesih, drezal v moje oči in mi poljubljal gobček. Ljubil sem vsak njegov dotik – ker je bil tvoj sedaj tako redek – in dal bi svoje življenje zanj.

Zlezel sem v njegovo posteljo, poslušal njegove skrivnosti in sanje, skupaj sva čakala, da bova zaslišala zvok tvojega avtomobila na dvorišču. Včasih si, če te je kdo vprašal ali imaš psa, ponosno izvlekel mojo sliko iz denarnice ter pripovedoval zgodbe o meni. Sedaj pa na to vprašanje odgovoriš samo “imam” in spremeniš temo.

Iz “tvojega psa” sem se spremenil v “samo psa” in ogorčen si nad vsakim stroškom zame.

Sedaj si dobil novo službo v drugem mestu in z družino si se preselil v novo stanovanje, kjer ni dovoljeno imeti hišnih ljubljenčkov. Sprejel si pravilno in dobro odločitev za tvojo “družino”, toda včasih sem bil tvoja edina družina jaz.

Veselil sem se vožnje z avtom, dokler nismo prispeli do zavetišča. Smrdelo je po psih in mačkah, po strahu in obupu. Izpolnil si papirje in dejal: “Vem, da boste našli dober dom zanj”. Gospe so skomignile z rameni in ti namenile žalosten pogled. One so vedele kaj se zgodi s starejšimi psi, tudi če imajo papirje.

Prstke svojega sina si moral “strgati” z mojega kožuha, ko je kričal: “Ne, očka! Prosim, ne dovoli jim, da mi vzamejo psa!” Skrbelo me je zanj. In kaj si ga ravnokar naučil o prijateljstvu, zvestobi, o ljubezni in odgovornosti ter spoštovanju za celo življenje? V slovo si me potrepljal po glavi, se izognil mojemu pogledu in prijazno zavrnil, ko so ti ponudili mojo ovratnico in povodec. Velikokrat si imel postavljen rok za oddajo dela. Sedaj imam tudi jaz rok. Rok do konca življenja.

Ko si odšel so prijazne gospe v zavetišču dejale, da si verjetno za selitev vedel že pred meseci in da ti ni bilo mar poiskati mi drug topel dom. Staknile so glave in dejale: “Le kako je lahko storil kaj takšnega?”

Tukaj v zavetišču so pozorni do nas, kolikor jim pač njihov zapolnjen urnik dopušča. Seveda nas hranijo, ampak jaz sem izgubil tek že pred dnevi. Prve dni sem vedno, ko je kdo prišel mimo moje ograde, pritekel pogledat in upal, da si ti. Da so bile vse le grde sanje in si me prišel iskat. Potem sem upal, da bo vsaj kdo, ki mu ne bo vseeno, nekdo ki me bo rešil. Ko sem ugotovil, da ne morem tekmovati z razposajenimi, veselimi mladički, ki jih ne skrbi njihova usoda, sem se zavlekel v kot in čakal.

Slišal sem njene korake, ko je konec dneva prišla pome. Odkorakal sem za njo po hodniku v posebno sobo. V strahotno tiho sobo. Položila me je na mizo, me počohljala za ušesi in mi dejala, naj nič ne skrbim. Srce mi je razbijalo od pričakovanja kaj se bo zgodilo, toda občutil sem tudi olajšanje. Ujetnik ljubezni je prišel na konec poti. Kot vedno me je bolj skrbelo zanjo kot zame. Videl sem, kakšno breme nosi, tako kot sem tudi pri tebi poznal vsako razpoloženje.

Videl sem solzo, ki ji je spolzela po licu, ko mi je privezala obvezo okoli prednje tačke. Obliznil sem ji roko, tako kot sem jo tebi, kadar sem te tolažil. Strokovno je zapičila iglo v mojo žilo. Ko sem začutil hladno tekočino krožiti po mojem telesu, sem se ulegel, pogledal v njene prijazne oči in zamrmral:”Kako si lahko to storila?”

Morda je razumela moje besede. Nežno me je objela in mi dejala: “Oprosti mi!”, ter mi razložila, da je njeno delo skrb za moj odhod v lepši kraj, kjer ne bom prezrt, zanemarjen ali zapuščen, kjer se mi ne bo potrebno več boriti. Kraj, ki je poln ljubezni in topline, tako drugačen od tega. Z zadnjimi močmi sem ji poskušal z zamahom repa povedati, da tisto “kako si lahko!” ni bilo namenjeno njej.
Ti, moj ljubljeni gospodar, ti si bil tisti na katerega sem mislil, ko sem izrekel: “Kako si lahko to storil!”.
Vedno bom mislil nate in večno bom čakal, da prideš pome, moj ljubljeni gospodar!

Konec

Jim Willis

Director, The Tiergarten Sanctuary Trust, accredited member of The American Sanctuary Association, and Program Coordinator, International Society for Animal Rights
e-mail: tiergartenjim@yahoo.com

Prevod Mateja Hribar, 2001

Dovoljenje za objavo na naši strani smo dobili od Jana Pahovnik.

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How could you ?
Copyrights: Jim Willis, 2001

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 housetraining 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, 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 the 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 have defended them with my life if need be.

I would sneak into their beds and listen to their worries and secret dreams. Together we waited for the sound of your car in the driveway. There had been a time, when others asked you 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 or cat, 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 goodbye 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 here in 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 you 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 realized 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 to a separate room. A blissfully quiet room. She placed me on the table, 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 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. 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 meant for her. It was you, My Beloved Master, I was thinking of. I will think of you and wait for you forever.

May everyone in your life continue to show you so much loyalty.

The End

Source:
Director, The Tiergarten Sanctuary Trust, accredited member of The American Sanctuary Association, and Program Coordinator, International Society for Animal Rights
e-mail: tiergartenjim@yahoo.com

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