Pets Are For Life
When looking to bring a new puppy into your home
please be sure to do a lot of breed research. Ask Questions about the breed you have
chosen to see if it is a good fit for your family and lifestyle and know you are ready for
the responsibility of a new bundle of joy.
Below is an essay that truely touched our hearts. It is a solid reminder of our
responsibilities to our pets.
How Could You?
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
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'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 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, 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 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
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
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 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.
By Jim Willis
With this in mind you should more easily
understand when a breeder asks you questions about your family or home or about your ideal
pet they are only trying, to the best of their ability, match the right puppy to your
In return we are always as honest as possible in answering all your questions about each
individual puppy so we are sure that when you agree to purchase a particular puppy you are
as educated as possible on that puppy's estimated size, personality and needs. By matching
each family with the best puppy to fit their lifestyle the family will be happy, allowing
the puppy to hopefully have a lifelong home.
We do understand that life takes each of us in different directions and sometimes things
occur that change our ability to care for a puppy or dog. In this instance always remember
that it is your responsibily to see that you find another responsible and loving home for
your beloved companion.
We specifically raise puppies for our future in showing and our
continuing effort in the betterment of the breed, but obviously not all puppies can be
kept. We will select the ones we feel can help us in our efforts and then seek out loving
homes for the others. Even the ones we choose to place will be excellent representations
of the breed and we are always proud for them to carry the Braylor's name!
Feel free to check out our Testimonial
page to learn what others have said about our butterflies. As you can see
the questions we ask and answer have allowed us to be quite successful in our puppy
"Money will buy a fine dog, but only kindness will make him wag his
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