The Tail that Did Not Wag....

I found this story on another blog and thought it was so sweet that I wanted to share it with you all ....

Four wiggling puppies spilled from the crate into the cage next door, tails waggling and happy yips puncturing the air. I sighed; they’d be snapped up as soon as ‘the people’ came this weekend.

It was a ritual I’d been through so many times I’d lost count. Every Saturday the dog pound opened its doors to ‘the people’, and every weekend many dogs went off to new homes and new lives.

But not me. Apparently I was too old and too sick for anyone want me. But how could I help my age, and this thing I had called diabetes? It wasn’t my fault. Bob, the man I had lived with for many years hadn’t minded. He called my medication ‘sweetie time’, and pushed it inside a piece of cheese. I knew it was there, of course. But I do like cheese.

Then Bob got sick and went to live with his daughter. That’s when I came here. I missed Bob but hoped I’d find a new home where someone would love me. But that was a long time ago now.

Saturday arrived and in came ‘the people.’ The other dogs barked; standing up, eager to see what was happening. I didn’t bother. No one would want me. They never did.

Sure enough, most people walked past my kennel without a second glance. Those who did stop muttered about my age or illness and walked on. I watched as one by one the puppies were picked up, cuddled, and went off to their new lives.
I closed my eyes, tried to sleep. Then I heard a voice close by

“He looks so sad. Dad, we can see him?”

I waited for the inevitable answer.

“Are you sure, Tommy? He’s an old guy, and he’s got diabetes.”
I sighed.

“I don’t care if he’s sick. I am too.”

I opened one eye to see a boy in a wheel chair. The boy was staring at me with wide, brown eyes. I raised my head, meeting his serious gaze.

My goodness. He knew! This boy knew exactly what it felt like to be thrown on the scrap heap through no fault of your own. How helpless that made you feel.
“I want him, Dad. He’s the one.”

“Are you sure, Son.?”

Before Tommy could answer, a lady walked over.

“This is him, Mum. He’s the one.”

Within minutes I was out of the cage and sporting a new collar and lead. Tommy it held tightly as his Dad wheeled him to their car. My car! Once Tommy was safely inside I noticed his Mum and Dad share a quick hug.

Soon we pulled up at my new home. Tommy held my lead and took me into the
back yard. The smells were amazing and I spent a contented hour or so adding my scent to my new territory.

Later that evening Tommy called me into his bedroom.

“You want to come up, fella?” He patted the bed beside him.

I’m old, but not that old. Bunching up all my strength, I leapt. Tommy grabbed and helped me up. He leant across to the table and picked up a plate.

“Don’t tell Mom and Dad,” he whispered. “D’you like cheese?”

For the first time in a long while, my tail began to wag.