I Killed a Dog

When I was a young boy living on a reservation farm I murdered a dog! This dog followed me around for days. A stray that had innocently wondered into my territory. I didn't want him, but he wouldn't leave me alone. His soft brown eyes looking for my attention, wanting a pat on the head. He never did anything to provoke me to anger. He never complained or criticized me, just wagged his tail and begged for a pat on the head. One day I was out shooting gophers, and this brown dog followed me. I couldn't get rid of him. I was setting there waiting for a gopher to pop up and this brown dog looked me in the eye. Right there, I judged him, condemned him, and executed him. I shot him right between the eyes! How does that make you feel? It makes me sick to my stomach to remember that incident. I have confessed my sin and acknowledged my guilt to the Creator, and I believe His forgiveness is there for a rotten low down sinner like me. What about Terry Schiavo? She was more helpless and more pitiful than that dog! It made me sick to my stomach to watch an innocent woman being starved and dehydrated to death. She couldn't speak for herself; she couldn't protect herself. But just like that dog, standing there with his soft brown eyes looking at me, Terry laid in her bed and smiled, her soft brown eyes lovingly looking at her so called protectors. What crime did she commit? What law did she break that was deserving of the death penalty? Yet, we sentenced her, and put her to a slow death. I did nothing to help her. I wanted to go down there and forcibly rescue her, but I did nothing. I am just as guilty as the rest. We kill our innocent, our helpless, our most defenseless. We will be judged for this. One day we will all stand before our Creator and give an account for what we are responsible for. We cry and bemoan the killing of animals, but what about our invalid and helpless?