1.Computer at home 2.Laptop at home 3.iPod Touch at home or wherever I can find wi-fi 4.Computers at school 5.Friends computers 6.Friends cellphones etc...
I am quite active when it comes to finding a place to log onto Marapets from. Thanks for reading. Also sometimes my sisters log onto Marapets but not all the time. If you need their usernames I can give them to you.
Just a few months ago I witnessed something that can never be forgiven. I watched the life of a puppy slowly die away. The day was long and I didn???t expect it to come, but for some reason God had to take him. His name was Max, short for Maximus Arelus from the movie the Gladiator. Max was 9 weeks and 1 day old. I owned Max for 2 weeks and 4 days. They were the best days to have and the worst to lose. When my family and I went to pick him up from the airport the first day I just stared into his big, bright green eyes. I spoke to him and gently pet his head, which made him submit on the spot. He was very small but his paws were very big. He was a black and rusty red Doberman pinscher. He was in my opinion times a million the cutest puppy in the world. Others thought the same. We spent the last 2 weeks having a lot of fun and playing. I trained you and you learned a lot of things. Although I didn???t get to teach you play dead you still knew how to do it. Time went by very quickly but I cherished every moment with him. He was a very obedient dog and we grew very close. The day came that he had to get his ears cropped and I regret ever agreeing to do it. I spent my whole day at school wondering if the surgery went as planned. I didn???t want to worry. Once I got on the bus to head home I got a call from my Dad. He told me that Max passed away during surgery. I didn???t believe him so I hung up the phone. Once I got home they took me to the vet. At the vet I had noticed the nurse talking to the doctor. My dad walked up to them and we were all sent into this cramped room. In front of me was a body under a very thin white blanket. The doctor had lifted the blanket up to his neck. His ears were completed but Max was not moving. He was not breathing, not even a blink. I started to cry when the doctor told me not to lift the rest of the blanket up. Soon everyone had started to ball up except for my dad. I ran outside to find an old lady asking me to adopt her old and wrinkly dog. I just pushed her out of the way and ran into the car and cried. When I got home I went to my room and cried until I fell asleep. I didn???t want any of this to go wrong, let alone have my puppy killed. I still think about my last day with him, I was getting ready to leave the door to go to the bus stop and my dad reminded me to wish Max good luck on his surgery. I ran to the garage and gave him a big hug. I whispered into his ear and told him everything would be all right. I asked him to give me the paw as I headed for the door. As usual he gave me both and bowed his head to me. I kissed it and said I???ll be back later Max. Turns out I did see him but on a cold metal bed, dead. I thought about all the fun we had while he was alive. The first day I had him he fell into the pool and he swam back to us. He enjoyed the backyard and all of its amenities. He enjoyed baths and sleeping on our laps. Max was a very obedient dog and he was a fast learner. I never had a chance to teach him many things though. I wish I had him for as long as I have my current Doberman. My dad told me about the day that Max was brought to the vet; he pawed at his reflection on the glass thinking it was another dog. He couldn???t help but laugh. That was the last time my dad smiled that day, only to find out he wouldn???t be leaving the vet with a dog, but with an empty heart.
I will never ever forget Max but for the mean time I have bigger problems to worry about. I am currently training my ???replacement???, as the surgeon put it. Max the second is as healthy as the first, but I won???t ever think of him as a ???replacement??? to Max the first. I???m sure Max the first would???ve grown into a healthy dog just like Max the second. I love both of them dearly. Besides I???m sure Max is having fun in Heaven right now. I mean all dogs go to Heaven right?
This is dedicated to Maximus Arelus. May you rest in peace and I hope to see you again. I love you. R.I.P. Max 3/12/08
True story. This is a rewrite of the original on my blog.
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 belly rub.
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 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, 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 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 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 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.
