Copyright Jim Willis 2001, all rights reserved

　　　　　 ＜豈有此理！！＞
當我還是傻裡傻氣的小狗時，一舉一動都會令你樂不可支。你稱我為自己骨
肉，喚我作心肝寶貝。雖然，我解剖過你幾個枕頭，咬爛過你不少鞋子，但我
們還是成為了最親蜜的朋友。

每次我「壞」了，你都會指著我，大叫：「豈有此理！」，但轉眼又會按捺
不住，眉開眼笑地把我反過來搓肚子。

我記得多少個晚上，我在被窩裏，鼻子哄著你，聽著你說秘密、說理想、說夢
話。噢，那是多美滿的日子。

我們一起散步，一起奔跑，一起遊車河，一起買雪糕 (每次你將雪糕吃光，
把雪糕筒留給我，便開始說雪糕對狗有害)。你上班，我會晒著太陽，半睡半醒
的等你回家，有時夢見你，有時想著你。

你愈來愈忙了，除了工作，也開始拍拖。我仍然每天等你，在你心碎、失意
時安慰你；無論你對或錯，我都只會默默支持你。你回家，我當然雀躍；嗅出
你戀愛的喜悅，我更欣喜若狂。

她，現在是你的妻子了，並不太喜歡狗，但我仍然歡迎她。我對她唯命是
從，嘗試用熱情感動她。你快樂，我便快樂。

嬰兒一個個出世，我和你同樣興奮。看到他們嬌嫩粉紅的肌膚，嗅著他們的氣
味，令我覺得自己也是父母，我也想照顧他們呀。但她，和你，卻擔心小孩子
的安全，最後，我不是被關在工作間，就是給困在籠子裏。唉，我是這樣的愛
他們；愛，卻把我囚禁起來。

小孩子慢慢長大，我終於成為他們的好朋友。他們扯著我的毛，戰戰兢兢地走
出第一步；他們用小手指戳我的眼，好奇地拉開我的耳朵研究，又熱情地吻我
鼻子。他們怎樣搞，我都無任歡迎，畢竟，你已經很少和我玩。我願意付出性
命，來保護他們。我會鑽進被窩，聽他們的小煩惱、小夢話，我又會和他們一
起，等待著你每天回家開門的鑰匙聲。

從前，朋友問起你有沒有養狗，你會急不及待從銀包拿出我的照片，興奮地講
我們的故事。這幾年，你只會「嗯」一聲，就轉話題；我也早從你的「心肝寶
貝」，變回你養的「一條狗」。我更留意到，你對養我的支出和費用，開始縐
眉頭了。

現在，你要調去上海工作，公司為你租的大廈不准養寵物。你為「家庭」，作
出了理性的抉擇。只可惜，沒有人提醒你，曾幾何時，我就是你的「家庭」。

很久沒遊車河了，我真有點興奮，直至，我進入了「愛護動物協會」，貓、
狗、絕望、和恐懼的氣味湧進鼻子裏。你填好文件，說：「我知你們會替牠找
個好歸宿的。」工作人員聳聳肩，一臉無奈。他們都知道，就算有出世紙，為
中年犬隻尋找一個家有多渺茫。

你的兒子尖叫著：「爸，不要讓他們帶走我的狗！」你要撬開他手指，他才肯
鬆開我的頸圈。我實在替他擔心，我擔心你剛替他上的一堂課，會令他一生對
友誼、忠誠、愛、責任，和所有生命都需要尊重的價值產生懷疑。

你留下了頸圈和皮帶，避開我的視線，拍拍我的頭當說再見。趕著開會的你，
看看錶，時間已無多；我不用開會，但情況，似乎一樣。你走後，兩位工作人
員談起來，說你幾個月前就知自己要調職，為甚麼不自己嘗試替我找戶好人
家？她們搖搖頭，說：「豈有此理！」。

工作人員忙得要命，但很看顧我們。當然，每天都有食物供應，但，我己經喪
失食慾很久了。

起初，每有人走近「囚室」，我都以為是你回心轉意，連跑帶跳地衝向鐵欄
杆，希望一切只是場惡夢。後來，我開始期盼會是想收養我的好心人，任何
人，只要把我從這夢魘救出去就好。

最後，我明白我不會是中心其他幼犬的對手，牠們活潑可愛，沒有包袱，我開
始長期縮在「囚室」一角，靜靜等待。有天，下班前，我聽到腳步聲來找我，
跟著她，我蹓過長長的走廊，入了一個房間。靜得像天國似的一個房間。

她把我放上桌子，揉著我耳朵，叫我不要怕。我的心砰砰跳著，估量著下一步
會是甚麼，暗地裏，卻有點如釋重負。做囚犯的日子，似乎走到盡頭了。

我的天性不改，看見她邊拿起針筒邊流淚，又開始為她擔心。我明明白白到她
的情緒，正如我明明白白你的一樣。我輕輕舔著她的手安慰她，就如從前安慰
著你。

她專業地把針滑進靜脈，刺痛帶著一陣清涼的液體流遍我全身。我累了，躺
下，想睡了，抬頭望著她慈愛的眼睛，我喃喃怨道：「豈有此理！」

她不知是看得懂，還是聽得懂，抱著我，抱歉地說對不起。又匆匆地解釋一
切都是為了確保我不用受苦，不用受遺棄。我去的地方充滿著愛，充滿光明，
會比這個世界更適合我。

我用盡最後一分氣力，重重地擺了擺尾，想告訴她，那句「豈有此理！」，
不是對她說的，是對我最愛的主人說的。我會永遠想念你，也會永遠等你。
我希望你一生遇上的所有人，都和我對你一樣有情有義，都和我對你一樣忠
誠。
＜完＞

　　　　＜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 housetraining 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, 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, especially 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. 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
or cat, 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, 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.
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 meant for 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.

The End