To anyone who says, "It's just a dog:"
You are the reason rescues exist, why thousands of dogs die every day in
shelters, homeless and unwanted.
You are the backyard breeder or puppy miller, who looks at a dog and sees
dollar signs, who cares nothing for the inevitable decline in the dog's
health after having litter upon litter of puppies, nor for the countless
dogs who will now die in shelters because the puppies you breed have taken
up their homes.
You are the supporter of these backyard breeders and puppy mills, willing to
pay $500 or more for a puppy rather than $90 for a rescued dog, because
having a pedigree to show off to friends is more important
than saving the life of a true and loyal companion.
You are the one who trains dogs to fight, whether for sport or protection,
thus abusing your dog and bringing the call for the extermination of an
entire breed of perfectly wonderful dogs.
You are the one who thinks nothing of putting your dog to sleep because it
doesn't go with the furniture, or it urinates on the carpet, while at the
same time balking at the thought of spanking an unruly child.
You are the one who dumps your dog at the shelter when you move, because
you're too lazy to find pet-friendly housing.
You are the one who keeps your dog tied up outside, only bothering to
provide the occasional bowls of food and water and possibly a tree for
shade, because after all, it is just a dog, right?
To the 90 year old woman in the nursing home, abandoned by her family,
yearning for companionship, stroking the fur of a new friend with the words
"Therapy Dog" on its side, it's not just a dog.
To the young child who has become literate by reading aloud to a dog in
the classroom, it's not just a dog.
To the person with skin cancer who had it detected by a dog when the
doctors couldn't, it's not just a dog.
To the blind man who now can see through his companion, it's not just a
dog.
To anyone who has been in bed, sick with the flu, and has felt the warmth of
that cold nose as he curls up between your legs to give you comfort, it's
not just a dog.
To anyone who comes home from a hard day of work to be greeted by someone
who's so happy to see you they can't stop wiggling, it's not just a dog.
To anyone who has cried at Old Yeller, because they know what it's like
to lose their best friend, to know that their friend is suffering and though
it may be hard, the best thing to do is to help them go peacefully, it's not
just a dog.
When you say, "It's just a dog," you really mean, "Why should I care about
it? Dogs aren't important. They're useless. They don't give anything to us,
so why should I give them anything in return? Why do I have to care about
their feelings? They don't matter in the grand scheme of things. It's just a
dog."
To everyone who says, "It's just a dog," I just have this to say to you:
You're just a human.