Tales & Tails of New York

I know too much about others' "bad lessons."
My first dog was a shelter mutt who'd been dumped -- after 7 years with one family -- due to a kid's alleged "allergies." My mother _insisted_ that we adopt her, specifically because the dog was unfairly treated, and looked very, very depressed. She was a great dog, and lived to _extreme_ old age.
I've had runty Boston Terriers, whom a redneck planned to drown; a discarded half-lame Lab; and dogs that were dumped due to age and disability.
By the time I got him, one neglected dog had had three abusive homes, and was skedded to be euthanized solely because he was old and blind.
And I adopted my current dog -- a senior deaf-blind poodle -- last year. He'd been dumped in a main-drag intersection during a sleet storm, and ended up as Mr. Least Adoptable in a LI kill shelter.
MEANWHILE: One neighbor sold her trendy mini-dog to a stranger because the dog barked too much (probably because the woman was never home and never walked the dog). She then adopted a shelter dog -- but returned him within a week, due to "allergies."  (If you believed that alibi, you'd think that 90% of Americans were frail wraiths with Boy in the Bubble Disease.) Others have dumped dogs/cats because "we're moving to Maine/NJ" (do those states ban small mammals?) or "we have a new baby." (They can't handle two living things? So if they have another baby, will they dump the firstborn?)

CHILDREN LEARN WHAT THEY LIVE. I was raised in a home where we were taught from as early as I can remember that having an animal was a responsibility and a privelege, not a right. My mother had a picture of me, at about the age of 7, with our dachshund Heidi, in my pajamas, in the dark; a leash in one hand and an umbrella in the other in the pouring rain.  Heidi was a family dog; Mom showed her in dog shows, and I took care of her daily needs.  We bred her once (she WAS an exemplary show dog), and when the puppies were being weaned, I took care of them also (and I was about 10 at the time). I walked home at lunchtime when my parents were at work, mixed up their soupy puppy food, fed them, and went back to school. My fifth-grade teacher always sent someone home with me to "help", as she felt this would be a good lesson in animal stewardship; she was ahead of her time in teaching her own version of humane education. Many years later a friend told me the reason she never asked for a puppy as a child was that she saw firsthand how much work and responsibility it was, and she wasn't ready for that. She later went on to become a veterinarian, and a true supporter of animal welfare. Lessons learned in childhood, either good or bad, are never truly forgotten.