We will not do any same day adoptions and anyone interested in one of our rescue dogs
will need to fill out an
ADOPTION QUESTIONNAIRE prior to being considered. There will
be a mandatory home visit before you can take your new dog home with you. All rescue
dogs are adopted on contract with a spay/neuter clause if not already sterilized. All dogs
are guaranteed in good health at the time of adoption. An "Adoption Fee" may be required
to offset medical costs. We, at
BLACK MASK ROTTWEILERS make every effort to
vaccinate, microchip and sterilize our rescues prior to being placed and very often we get
dogs in that are in need of other medical attention, all of which, costs money. The
adoption fee is merely an effort to recoup some of these expenses and typically only
reflects sterilization costs. Any expenses incurred in shipping outside of the state of
Washington are additional to the adoption fee and are the responsibility of the adopter.

Completing our questionnaire in no way guarantees that we will have a dog for you at this
time. It is simply a tool to aid us in finding the most appropriate homes for all of our
available rescues. It is very important to us, here at BLACK MASK ROTTWEILERS, that
we find the very best forever homes for any dog place by us. BLACK MASK
ROTTWEILERS reserves the right to refuse anyone at anytime for any reason.

Thank you so much for taking the time and the compassion to consider one of our
wonderful rescues. If you are interested in any of our rescues, please don't hesitate in
dropping me an email. I would be happy to answer any questions.
We don't have any rescue dogs at this time.
Please check out our
LINKS page and follow our rescue links to other
rescue sites.
"How Could You"

By Jim Willis, copyright 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 you best fiend.

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 bellyrub.

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 have 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 understond 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
responcibility, 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. The 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 dogspeak, 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 you, MY Beloved
Master, I was thinking of . I will think of you and wait your you, forever.

May everyone in your life continue to show you so much loyalty.

The End





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 and Canadian animal shelters.
Anyone is welcome to distribute the essay for a noncommercial purpose, as long as it is properly attributed with the
copyright notice.

Please use it to help educate, on your website, 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 and neuter campaigns in order to prevent unwanted animals.