| After
I was discharged from the Navy, Jim and I moved back to Detroit
to use our GI bill benefits to get some schooling. Jim was going
for a degree in Electronics and I, after much debating, decided
to get mine in Computer Science. One of the classes required was
Speech. Like many people I had no fondness for getting up in front
of people for any reason, let alone to be the center of attention
as I stuttered my way through some unfamiliar subject, but I couldn't
get out of the requirement, and so I found myself in my last semester
before graduation with Speech as one of my classes.
On the first day of class
our professor explained to us that he was going to leave the subject
matter of our talks up to us, but he was going to provide the
motivations of the speeches. We would be responsible for six speeches,
each with a different motivation. For instance our first speech's
purpose was to inform. He advised us to pick subjects that we
were interested in and knowledgeable about. I decided to center
my six speeches around animals, especially dogs.
For my first speech to
inform, I talked about the equestrian art of dressage. For my
speech to demonstrate, I brought my German Shepherd "Bodger" to
class and demonstrated obedience commands. Finally the semester
was almost over and I had but one more speech to give. This speech
was to take the place of a written final exam and was to count
for fifty percent of our grade. The speeches motivation was to
persuade.
After agonizing over a
subject matter, and keeping with my animal theme, I decided on
the topic of spaying and neutering pets. My goal was to try to
persuade my classmates to neuter their pets. So I started researching
the topic. There was plenty of material, articles that told of
the millions of dogs and cats that were euthanized every year,
of supposedly beloved pets that were turned in to various animal
control facilities for the lamest of reason, or worse dropped
off far from home, bewildered and scared. Death was usually a
blessing. The final speech was looming closer, but I felt well
prepared. My notes were full of facts and statistics that I felt
sure would motivate even the most naive of pet owner to succumb
to my plea.
A couple of days before
our speeches were due, I had the bright idea of going to the local
branch of the Humane Society and borrowing a puppy to use as a
sort of a visual aid. I called the Humane Society and explained
what I wanted. They were very happy to accommodate me. I made
arrangements to pick up a puppy the day before my speech. The
day before my speech, I went to pick up the puppy. I was feeling
very confident. I could quote all the statistics and numbers without
ever looking at my notes. The puppy, I felt, would add the final
emotional touch.
When I arrived at the Humane
Society I was met by a young guy, named Ron. He explained that
he was the public relations person for the Humane Society. He
was very excited about my speech and asked if I would like a tour
of the facilities before I picked up the puppy. I enthusiastically
agreed. We started out in the reception area, which was the general
public's initial encounter with the Humane Society. The lobby
was full, mostly with people dropping off various animals that
they no longer wanted.
Ron explained to me that
this branch of the Humane society took in about fifty animal a
day and adopted out twenty. As we stood there I heard snatches
of conversation, "I can't keep him, he digs holes in my garden,"
"They're such cute puppies, I know you will have no trouble finding
homes for them." "She is wild, I can't control her." I heard one
of Humane Society's volunteer explain to the lady with the litter
of puppies that the Society was filled with puppies and that these
puppies, being black, would immediately be put to sleep. Black
puppies, he explained, had little chance of being adopted. The
woman who brought the puppies in just shrugged, "I can't help
it" she whined, "they are getting too big, I don't have room for
them."
We left the reception area
and Ron led me into the staging area where the incoming animals
were evaluated for adaptability. Over half never even made it
to the adoption center. There were just too many. Not only were
people bringing in their own animals, but strays were also dropped
off. By law the humane society had to hold a stray for three days.
If the animal was not claimed by then it was euthanized, since
there was no background information on the animal. There were
already too many animals that had a known history eagerly provided
by their soon to be x owners.
As we went through the
different areas, I felt more and more depressed. No amount of
statistics could take the place of seeing the reality of what
this throw away attitude did to the living, breathing animal.
It was overwhelming. Finally Ron stopped in front of a closed
door. "That's it." He said. "Except for this." I read the sign
on the door: Euthanization Area. "Do you want to see one?" he
asked. Before I could decline, he interjected, "You really should,
you can't tell the whole story unless you experience the end."
I reluctantly agreed. "Good," he said. "I already cleared it and
Peggy is expecting you." He knocked firmly on the door. A middle-aged
woman in a white lab coat opened it immediately. "Here's the girl
I was telling you about." Ron explained.
Peggy looked me over. "Well,
I'll leave you here with Peggy and meet you in the reception area
in about fifteen minutes. I'll have the puppy ready." With that
Ron departed, leaving me standing in front of the stern looking
Peggy. Peggy motioned me in. As I walked into the room, I gave
an audible gasp. The room was small and Spartan. There were a
couple of cages on the wall and a cabinet with syringes and vials
of a clear liquid. In the middle of the room was an examining
table with a rubber mat on top. There were two doors other then
the one I had entered. Both were closed, one said to incinerator
room, and the other had no sign, but I could hear various animal
noises coming from behind the closed door. In the back of the
room, near the door that was marked incinerator, were the objects
that caused my distress. Two wheel barrels, filled with the bodies
of dead kittens and puppies.
I stared in horror. Nothing
had prepared me for this, I felt my legs grow weak and my breathing
become rapid and shallow. I wanted to run from that room, screaming.
Peggy seemed not to notice my state of shock. She started talking
about the Euthanization process, but I wasn't hearing her. I could
not tear my gaze away from the wheel barrels and those dozens
of pathetic little bodies. Finally, Peggy seemed to notice that
I was not paying attention to her. "Are you listening?" she asked
irritably. "I'm only going to go through this once." I tore my
gaze from the back of the room and looked at her. I opened my
mouth to say something, but nothing would come out, so I nodded.
She told me that behind the unmarked door were the animals that
were scheduled for euthanasia that day. She picked up a chart
that was hanging from the wall. "One fifty-three is next." She
said as she looked at the chart. "I'll go get him."
She laid down the chart
on the examining table and started for the unmarked door. Before
she got to the door she stopped and turned around. "You aren't
going to get hysterical are you?" she asked. "Because that will
only upset the animals." I shook my head. I had not said a word
since I walked into that room. I still felt unsure if I would
be able to without breaking down into tears. As Peggy opened the
unmarked door I peered into the room beyond. It was a small room,
but the walls were lined and stacked with cages. It looked like
they were all occupied. Peggy opened the door of one of the lower
cages and removed the occupant. From what I could see it looked
like a medium size dog. She attached a leash and ushered the dog
into the room in which I stood.
As Peggy brought the dog
into the room I could see that the dog was no more than a puppy
maybe five or six months old. The pup looked to be a cross between
a Lab and a German Shepherd. He was mostly black, with a small
amount of tan above his eyes and on his feet. He was very excited
and bouncing up and down, trying to sniff everything in this new
environment. Peggy lifted the pup onto the table. She had a card
in her hand, which she laid on the table next to me. I read the
card. It said that number one fifty-three was a mixed Shepherd,
6 months old, surrendered two days ago by a family. Reason of
surrender was given as jumps on children. At the bottom was a
note that said Name: Sam.
Peggy was quick and efficient,
from lots of practice, I guessed. She laid one fifty-three down
on his side and tied a rubber tourniquet around his front leg.
She turned to fill the syringe from the vial of clear liquid.
All this time I was standing at the head of the table. I could
see the moment that one fifty-three went from a curious puppy
to a terrified puppy. He did not like being held down and he started
to struggle. It was then that I finally found my voice. I bent
over the struggling puppy and whispered "Sam, your name is Sam."
At the sound of his name Sam quit struggling. He wagged his tail
tentatively and his soft pink tongue darted out and licked my
hand. And that is how he spent his last moment. I watched his
eyes fade from hopefulness to nothingness. It was over very quickly.
I had never even seen Peggy
give the lethal shot. The tears could not be contained any longer.
I kept my head down so as not to embarrass myself in front of
the stoic Peggy. My tears fell onto the still body on the table.
"Now you know." Peggy said softly. Then she turned away. "Ron
will be waiting for you." I left the room. Although it seem like
it had been hours, only fifteen minutes had gone by since Ron
had left me at the door. I made my way back to the reception area.
True to his word, Ron had the puppy already to go. After giving
me some instructions about what to feed the puppy, he handed the
carrying cage over to me and wished me good luck on my speech.
That night I went home
and spent many hours playing with the orphan puppy. I went to
bed that night but I could not sleep. After a while I got up and
looked at my speech notes with their numbers and statistics. Without
second thought I tore them up and threw them away. I went back
to bed. Sometime during the night I finally fell asleep. The next
morning I arrived at my Speech class with Puppy Doe. When my turn
came to give my speech. I walked up to the front the class with
the puppy in my arms. I took a deep breath, and I told the class
about the life and death of Sam.
When I finished my speech
I became aware that I was crying. I apologized to the class and
took my seat. After class the teacher handed out a critique with
our grades. I had got an "A." His comments said "Very moving and
persuasive." Two days later, on the last day of class, one of
my classmates came up to me. She was an older lady that I had
never spoken to in class. She stopped me on our way out of the
classroom. "I want you to know that I adopted the puppy you brought
to class." She said. "His name is Sam."
Resource:
©Chris Benton
Visit a "SAM"
near you at your local Shelter or animal Rescue Group if you can't
adopt you can still make a difference by sponsoring an animal
until it is adopted or sponsor it's spay/neuter so someone else
can adopt. Even if you visit with just a kind word it will make
a difference to a loving soul who anxiously waits to meet you!
You
can make a difference!
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