Declaration of the rights of dog

Recently, I suffered two very painful injuries. And I worry each day about the dogs I would be helping if only I could move without the sharp pain and dull ache that comes and goes each hour. What causes me harsh, physical pain is trumped by the pain of all of the dogs (and cats and other animals) who I can't reach out to help. On this last day, the magic of anthropomorphism lets a typical shelter dog speak for itself:

Does a dog have rights?

Of course I do.

I have a right not to be kicked, punched, chained, tethered, dragged, deprived, nor tortured, abused or neglected in so many horrendous ways.

I have a right to a home where I will be fed, walked, groomed and cared for for the entire duration of the playful, sleepy, peaceful life that I'm sure you agree I deserve.

I have a right to be loved, cuddled, kissed and have songs sung to me in silly, embarrassing ways.

Shelter animals have the right not to be killed and have it masqueraded as a mercy "euthanasia" in jumbled statistics. You humans really twist the truth.

Breeders' dishonestly call themselves "responsible." It's as big a sham as the tobacco industry's "safe" cigarette. Hey, we're going to die if not adopted. There's an Akita here in L.A.'s Lancaster shelter, #3703258. My God, she's only $37. Her breeder, and Bill, know she's here, but is anyone on the way to save her? No, a rescuer posted her on CraigsList hoping someone else cleans up the tragedy the breeder created.

I am at a loss as to why people buy deliberately bred and cross-bred dogs when millions of shelter animals killed each year in the U.S. are every bit as cute, sweet, big, small, old, young, smart or goofy, healthy and able or sick and injured. It's no better in other countries.

People like Dan, his friends and people he just knows via e-mail love all dogs, including the Borzois that Bill uses to pay the Visa bill. From Abruzzenhunds to Zuchons. That is, from A to Z.

The rescuers dedicate their souls to the ones killed in the shelter, lingering in the shelter, tethered to a guard dog house, misunderstood or kicked out when a child is born, as well as feral colonies (of cats) and animals just thrown in the backyard and ignored for 15 sad years.

For millenniums, we dogs have been your friends and protectors. That love hasn't nearly been reciprocated. We are killed, tortured, neglected and thrown out like trash, just months after being thoughtlessly given to a relative of yours as a "gift" when they didn't want a dog in the first place. Divorce screws us up too.

If you just walked me more, and gave me more of a chance, I'd have "done my thing" out on the grass, instead of indoors. Kicking me afterward just made me more scared and confused. Now I rot, waiting for death on this cold, concrete slab, reeking of fear, loneliness and nothingness. You've got opposable thumbs to open the door; and I've just got paws. But I'm the one who's paying the price. I can't even ask for help, let alone to go outside when I need to. Will someone please take me out of this "shelter" and bring me home?

Why did my owners dump me here, at 10 years of age, and walk out the same day with a puppy younger and cuter than me? Why didn't someone stop that and remind them I'd be killed if left here?

Politicians take photos with me, demand a change, but never make it happen. What will happen to this pup when he's as old as I am? She's not fixed; the paperwork says he's a boy even though she's a girl, and no one bothered to get her microchipped. She's as doomed as I am.

My God, you spent how much at a pet store or breeder? I'd have loved you ..... for free. For just some kibble, water and that pizza crust, I'd have done anything for you. And I still will, if you get to the shelter before end of day when I'm to be killed.