Many years ago, this story appeared in one
of Ann Landers' columns:

A Final Tribute to a Faithful
Pet
Dear Ann Landers,
This short story is based on my
own experience and I think it will touch anyone who has ever
owned a pet. I wrote it with tears in my eyes. Will you please print it?
Charles B. Wells Jr.,
Palmyra, NY
DOGS DON'T HAVE SOULS, DO
THEY?
I remember bringing you home. You were so small and cuddly with your
tiny paws and soft fur. You bounced around the room with eyes flashing
and ears flopping. Once in a while, you'd let out a little yelp just to
let me know this was your territory.
Making a mess of the house and chewing on everything in sight became a
passion and when I scolded you, you just put your head down and looked
up at me with those innocent eyes as if to say: "I'm sorry, but
I'll do it again as soon as you're not watching."
As you got older, you protected me by looking out the window and barking
at everyone who walked by. When I had a tough day at work, you would be
waiting for me with your tail wagging just to say, "Welcome home. I
missed you." You never had a bad day and I could always count on
you to be there for me.
When I sat down to read the paper and watch TV, you would hop on my lap
looking for attention. You never asked for anything more than to have me
pat your head so you could go to sleep with your head over my leg.
As you got older, you moved around more slowly. Then one day, old age
finally took its toll, and you couldn't stand on those wobbly legs
anymore. I knelt down and patted you lying there, trying to make you
young again. You just looked up at me as if to say you were old and
tired and that after all these years of not asking for anything, you had
to ask me to do one last favor.
With tears in my eyes, I drove you one last time to the vet. One last
time you were lying next to me. For some strange reason you were able to
stand up in the animal hospital - perhaps it was your sense of pride.
As the vet led you away, you stopped for an instant, turned your head
and looked at me as if to say: "Thank you for taking care of
me."
I thought, "No - thank YOU for taking care of ME."
Dear Charles,
What a beautiful tribute.
Every person who has loved a pet will be deeply moved by what you have
written.
There is a moral here that should
not be overlooked. When your faithful pet becomes old and sick,
and life is no longer fun but rather a painful burden, do your friend
one last kindness. Relieve him or her of the misery. It's
the last great act of compassion you can perform.
Ann Landers