Rottielover
December 3rd, 2006, 01:17 PM
This is a cross post from another site. I thought it was very important.
> Trust - A Deadly Disease
>
> Author unknown
>
> 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 are inoculations. 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 stowed 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 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 darned 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 suggest 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 every
> 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 is 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 comes 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 neighbor dog across the street, and suddenly forgets
> everything he ever knew about not slipping out doors, 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 beautiful body.
>
> The disease is trust. The final outcome, hit by a car.
>
> Every morning my dog bounced around off lead exploring. Every morning
> for seven years he came back when he was called. He was perfectly
> obedient, 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 do not matter.
> Trust - A Deadly Disease
>
> Author unknown
>
> 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 are inoculations. 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 stowed 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 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 darned 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 suggest 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 every
> 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 is 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 comes 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 neighbor dog across the street, and suddenly forgets
> everything he ever knew about not slipping out doors, 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 beautiful body.
>
> The disease is trust. The final outcome, hit by a car.
>
> Every morning my dog bounced around off lead exploring. Every morning
> for seven years he came back when he was called. He was perfectly
> obedient, 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 do not matter.
