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 that was a requirement
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
motivation of the speech. 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 per
cent 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
reasons, 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 owners 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 animals 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
are 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, she 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. Ron led me into the staging area
where all the incoming animals were evaluated for
adoptability. 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
ex-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 throwaway 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."
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