Monday, July 16
The moment I laid eyes on her, June Cleaver made it all the way to my heart. And now she looks at me with hope. Thinking I can fix everything that’s wrong, I see unwavering trust in her eyes.
This morning when it was time for our walk I had a hard time waking June. I lifted my dog from the bed, hooked her to the leash and we began our short, early-morning stroll. She seemed to walk slower and to breathe a little deeper than usual. “Pick ‘em up and put ‘em down,” I said, thinking it was just the heat. Later she had an accident in the house, something she’s never done before. She must have fallen into it and couldn’t get up. Her eyes begged, “fix me.”
Soon we were at the vet’s. She lay on the floor, I sat on a stool beside her. She leaned her head next to my legs, as close to me as she could get. I bent over, wrapped my arms around her.
I could almost sense what my dog was feeling and I thought, if only she could speak, she’d whisper, “Take me home. Put me in the bed. There, where I can sleep. Next to you. Like I do every night, in the curled up comfort of your legs.”
“I have to leave you for now,” I said. “But I’ll return in the morning.”
After talking to Dr. Jeanes, I don’t tell June that hers may not be a round trip visit.
I took hope and courage from the words I’ve heard our minster Chuck Poole say, “I pray God to give me the strength to go through, what I didn’t get to go around.”
“Whatever that will be, June Cleaver, I do pray for strength and courage. For the both of us.”
Back home I wrote a short note to my dog.
“You’ve been a dear companion. Even when I wasn’t special, you made me feel that I was. For over three years it’s been, Roo and Petey you and me, since your master left us. Whispering raindrops fell into our lives, but you loved me and I loved you.
You helped me heal from the losses of my child, my grandchild. And then my husband. I couldn’t read your mind, but there were many times when I felt you read mine, you sensed and felt my longing and sadness, as no other creature on God’s green earth could do.
For so many nights I felt your warm body next to mine. What a comfort that has been.
You were always there for me and now I have to be there for you. With a curtain slowly sliding over our lives together, I make you a promise - I won’t let you suffer. I’ll stay with you. You will be held by me in your final moments.”
July 17, Tuesday
I am at Dr. Jeanes office. I have set up a small boom box to play some of the old hymns that give me comfort and hope. Holding you in his arms, Keith Holly entered and laid you at my feet. I sink to the floor. I see unwavering trust in your eyes. My arms encircling you, I try not to move because we are in a trusting, a resting place - you trusting, thinking I can fix things.
We have long, precious moments with each other. As I hold you, one song that is especially dear to me,” Come Thou Fount of Every Blessing” plays and brings back a remembrance. Because the first time you and I laid eyes on each other, you saw your fount of every blessing. And you brought streams of mercy to me and mine.
Soon Dr. Jeanes and Keith enter the room. They gently lift you onto a table, then Keith helps your mistress to her feet.
My head against yours, I feel your warm breath on my face. My tears will mix with your sweaty fur, they will be a part of you now. Forever.
That old song that played a tune in my heart when we first saw each other was with you in some of those final moments when you joined him. My voice tells you what you’ve meant to me and mine, as you slip away.
***
After the passing of a loved one, not everyone feels this way, but I’m one of those people who want a place to go, so they can have a visit.
I’ll sprinkle your ashes where he lays.
My lovely, lady, you left me - I’ll miss you every day, but I take comfort. Our canine companions are not separated from us for eternity. And someday you’ll run to greet me. I’ll be with you, my little dog Rex, and our black lab, Dutchy. My face will be warm and sticky from those happy kisses covering my chin and cheeks. My hands can once again stroke your soft, furry bodies.
I’ll keep so many memories wrapped close to my heart until we all meet again. Then I’ll be with my girls, Tootie, Pat and Brent.
My beloved, Willard - we’ll never be parted again.
I have to close for now. It’s time for me to feed Roo Roo and Petey Poo.
“Thou love has blest me.”
If anyone wants to know more about how June Cleaver became my fount of blessings, I’ll be glad to loan you the book I wrote about this special dog, “Streams of Mercy”.
