My avatar is a friend of mine. Her name is Pride. Her story gives me anything but pride for our society. This is her story, to the best that I know.

Pride was born to a backyard breeder of unknown parentage. By the time she was 2 1/2 she had been bred so that her owners could make some quick cash. She was sold to a friend of the owner, who took such great care with her that he allowed her to get loose. While on the lamb she was called in to the Animal Shelter, where a Humane Law Enforcement Officer picked her up and brought her to where she and I met.

Although I had been working at the shelter for almost a year, and had known a few Pitbulls, Pride was the first that I connected with. She was beautiful, and you could just tell that there was something special about her. She would nose a ball toward the front of her run to show you she wanted to play. She gingerly took a treat from you so as not to make you fear her. She and I became fast friends.

Every day I was at work Pride and I would take a walk. On nice days, we would sit in the grass and just hang out with each other. She taught me about dogs, and I taught her that someone would love her. She and I trained one another on life, love, and respect.

After several months at the Shelter, she was adopted by a big bear of a fellow, with a barrel chest like hers and a long grey beard. He'd passed my inspection and was the best man to take her. I was so pleased.

Until...an unforeseen circumstance prevented this man from keeping Pride. His elderly mother moved in with him, and while that alone didn't force his hand, he was now charged with her care a great deal of time. He just didn't have the time to devote to Pride and didn't want her to live that way.

Our reunion was bitter-sweet. For as much as I loved her, I had hoped that I wouldn't have to see her again. The man gave me her license, and I wore it around my neck on a chain. She and I immediately resumed our routine and she was happy.

Pride was adopted quickly this time. Only the young man who adopted her knew her. I was shocked to find out. He was the former boyfriend of her original owner, and was there when she had her puppies. I was awestruck that they would allow him to take her, but she had few other prospects. I never understood the decision, and I never will. I cried that night, praying that she would remain happy.

I don't know what happened after she left with the young man I didn't trust. I can't tell you what she went through. I don't know if she was loved, or even cared for at all. I don't know if she had a friend as great as I. All I do know, is that nothing good could have happened to her. I know this, because she and I met one last time.

Many months after Pride left me, I was walking through the kennels when I spotted a girl who looked so much like Pride that I wept right out in the open. I hadn't realized how much I missed her until that moment. This girl came in with a daughter, Baby. Baby was slightly aggressive, and didn't look you in the eye. Her mother, this beautiful creature was so much like Pride that I couldn't believe it. Lola the papers said. Lola lacked only one thing that Pride always had. There was no sparkle, there was no trust. What was there was a shell of a dog who had the potential for so much more. Lola seemed to want me near her, but was somewhat distant. She paced her kennel. She had sadness. I tried to make that connection, but I just couldn't. This was a defeated dog. This was a dog who's past had brought her to the edge.

A week after Lola's arrival, a good friend asked how come I didn't spend the time with Pride that I had before. She explained that Lola had been Pride's name before she came to the Shelter the first time. The jerk who I never trusted surrendered her and her daughter to the shelter because they were acting aggressive with him. It wasn't until he left that they scanned her and found her chip that showed who she really was.

I was devastated. This was not the same dog I knew and loved. This was not the dog who's memory dangled from a chain on my neck. This dog had lost hope. Each day, she became more and more distant. She had so much mistrust in people now. I couldn't blame her. She had been bounced around from home to home where nobody gave her the love she deserved. She was lost.

The fateful day was approaching. The Shelter Staff had a meeting. Seems that Lola and Baby had become more and more aggressive, and one of the Volunteers feared them. They both had charged the gates on more than one occasion. It was determined that a temperament test be done to determine if they were even eligible for adoption any longer. They were not.

I took my case to the Animal Care Supervisor. I had seen the changes. I was not fool to believe that my touch would bring her back. What I wanted was to be there for her. To make sure that her last breath was with someone who loved her. To give her comfort. I wanted her to know, that no matter what she was now blatantly capable of, that she forever changed me, and the way I view animals. I wanted to give her back what she had given me. I was told that it would be a few days, and that she would think about it.

The next morning, I came into the Shelter and went straight to her run. She wasn't there, so I looked in all the runs. I couldn't find her. I went in to the Isolation area, into the Quarantine area. No luck. I found my friend. I looked into her eyes and found my answer. They had, without me, put her down. I was later told that her condition worsened, but I don't think that was true. I think that they didn't want me to hurt to see her go, only now I hurt worse. I didn't even get to say goodbye.

I am a far better person for having known Pride, and I will never forget her. She is in my heart always.