Copyright © 1997 Walt Zientek

I'll never feel the harness of a Service Dog. I'll never fly to earthquake
sites. I'll never do airport or border duty. I'm just a pet.

I'm not as pretty as a show dog or as driven as a trialer. I go to school,
but not to competition. I'll never pass on my genes. After all, I'm just a
pet.

You won't find my pictures in the famous books or read my story in the
popular journals. The color of my nose, the shape of my tail or the thickness
of my coat are not that important. Remember, I'm just a pet.

Just a pet. A member of the family, a part of the pack. My photos are in
the album. I'm wearing reindeer antlers and silly sunglasses! I get special
birthday cakes and dog-friend parties. They take me to the beach, park,
lake and forest.

My people worry over me. They get my shots and check-ups done. They
spend more time on my diet than they do on their own. I don't know why
they do it. I'm just a pet.

Just a pet, but they treat me like a person. They talk to me, brush me, train
me, brag about me, hug me and sometimes even cry over me.

And I can't give them anything back. I mean, I'll babysit and guard the
house and put up with anything my kids dish out. And just maybe, sometimes
I let them see something of themselves in me, in my gentleness, my courage
and my pride. Oh sure I love them totally without regard to anything. Maybe
because our time together is so short... I don't know, I'm just a pet.