Every Pet Needs an I.D. Tag!

If you need one of my addresses I will post them here for your convenience. Snail mail is Brenda Green, 8155 Madison St., Brooksville, FL 34613. My email is bgreen7@tampabay.rr.com

Being a kita "mom" to three lovable, loyal and mischievous Akitas is lots of fun and lots of work,too! Nothing makes me happier than seeing, happy, healthy, well cared for and loved pets! I would be devastated if one of my pets was lost. I have gotten emails from owners who have lost their pets and wish they had only gotten ID for them before it was too late. All my Akitas have pet ID tags and are microchipped for double security just in case they escape our double fenced property! ID tags are so inexpensive; get ID for your pets before it is too late!

P.S.- I now have only 3 Akitas, my beloved Benjamin Henry has been at the Rainbow Bridge since 8-5-05. He was my first Akita and my inspiration to start selling and donating pet ID tags. He is how I chose my ebay name, he will live forever in my heart, and my tags will be made lovingly in his memory. I have posted a few of his pictures here and also one picture of all 4 together. Nicki Pearl, Kayla Bug, Ben Henry, and Bucky Bonehead.

P.S.S.-Nicki Pearl traveled to the Rainbow Bridge this Morning of December 10, 2006- I pray her and Ben are happy and together again. Her photo is the second one in the second row.

P.S.S.- New addition to our family! She is a red with black mask akita shown here (last picture) at 9 months old in July '07. Her name is Bindi Sue- AKA-"Smarty Pants" or "Fish Girl"-she LOVES to swim!

I use the profits from the sale of my tags to help support my Akitas and buy a few things on ebay myself. I also offer a free pet ID tag for Akitas who are adopted from Akita Rescue Society of Florida and also for pets adopted from Hernando County Florida Animal Control Services. If you adopt a pet from one of these agencies you will be provided an order form to receive your free tag for your new "best friend"!

LEND ME A PUP

I will lend to you for a while, a pup, God said. For you to love him while he lives, and mourn him when he's dead. Maybe for twelve or fourteen years, or maybe two or three. But will you, 'till I call him back, take care of him for me? He'll bring his charms to gladden you and (should his stay be brief) you'll always have his memories, as solace for your grief I cannot promise he will stay, since all from earth return. But there are lessons taught below I want this pup to learn. I've looked the whole world over, in search of teachers true. And from the folk that crowd's life's land, I have chosen you . Now will you give him all your love, nor think the labor vain, nor hate me when I come to take my pup back again? I fancied that I heard him say " Dear Lord Thy Will be Done". For all the joys this Pup will bring, the risk of grief we'll run. We'll shelter him with tenderness; we'll love him while we may. And for the happiness we've known, forever-grateful stay. But should you call him back much sooner than we've planned. We'll brave the bitter grief that comes, and try to understand. If, by our love, we've managed, your wishes to achieve. In memory of him we loved to help us while we grieve. When our faithful bundle departs this world of strife. We'll have yet another pup, and love him all his life.

Prayer to St. Francis of Assisi. A Franciscan animal blessing:

Blessed are you, Lord God, maker of all living creatures. On the fifth and sixth days of creation, you called forth fish in the sea, birds in the air and animals on the land.

You inspired ST. Francis to call all animals his brothers and sisters. We ask you to bless this animal.

By the power of your love, enable it to live accordingly to your plan. May we always praise you for all your beauty in creation.

Blessed are you, Lord our God, in all your creatures!! Amen.

HOW COULD YOU? - By Jim Willis, 2001

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've 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 good-bye 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 dog speak, 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 directed at you, My Beloved Master, I was thinking of you. I will think of you and wait for you forever. May everyone in your life continue to show you so much loyalty. A Note from the Author: If "How Could You?" brought tears to your eyes as you read it, as it did to mine as I wrote it, it is because it is the composite story of the millions of formerly "owned" pets who die each year in American & Canadian animal shelters. Please use this to help educate, on your websites, in newsletters, on animal shelter and vet office bulletin boards. Tell the public that the decision to add a pet to the family is an important one for life, that animals deserve our love and sensible care, that finding another appropriate home for your animal is your responsibility and any local humane society or animal welfare league can offer you good advice, and that all life is precious. Please do your part to stop the killing, and encourage all spay & neuter campaigns in order to prevent unwanted animals.