WITH A CHILD'S FAITH--ALL DOGS GO TO HEAVEN

When I was growing up, we always had dogs. We had the family pet, King, who was a collie/German shepherd mix, and then several old hunting dogs that Daddy kept. The hunting dogs were well cared for, but not treated as pets. They lived in a pen, were fed twice a day, and were off limits to children.

This rule was rarely broken. But when one of the female dogs would have pups, Daddy would be a little more lenient on our having access to them. My two brothers and I were always overjoyed when pups were to be born. It was exciting to waiting in anticipation to be able to play with them and give them all names. Better still, there was the slimmest chance that Daddy might let us keep one!

There was no vet involved in the birthing of pups, only Mother Nature and the will of God. Sometimes everything happened as it should, and a healthy litter would enter the world. Sometimes, it could be bad and the pups would either die during birth, or soon after.

Even as a small child, the acceptance of death was very hard for me. I was raised to believe that God was love, and I just could not understand how a loving God could let babies—be they two or four legged—die.

When I was around six years old, Daddy best coon hound, Jenny Beth, had seven pups. Jenny had a very hard time of it, and Daddy even stayed with her to make sure she didn’t bleed to death during the birth. But after quite a struggle, Jenny pulled through, and the pups were born alive.

Unfortunately, they didn’t stay that way.

A couple of mornings later, when my brother and I rushed down to the dog pen to see the pups, they all lie still as stones. My brother fetched Daddy. When he walked up to the gate and saw the lifeless little bodies, we could see it on his face. They were all dead, lying in a tumble near the mother, sleeping the slumber that never ends. Poor Jenny Beth looked heartbroken as Daddy gathered up the little bodies and placed them in an old water pan outside the pen. I was crying so hard I couldn’t breathe. Daddy told my brother and I to go to the house, that he would bury the pups later.

My brother turned to go, but I couldn’t leave. I immediately grabbed the pups out of the pan and tried to wake them up. Their little eyes had never had a chance to open, and their bodies were hard and frozen in death. I tried and tried to make them move, until finally my brother made me put them down and pulled me away from the dog pen towards the house.

We got about half way there before I broke away and ran back for the dog pen. My brother let me go, he didn’t follow.

I went back, gathered every pup in my arms, and took off. There was an old drainage ditch not far from the dog pin, and I climbed down into the culvert near the drain pipe, clutching the dead pups in my arms. I laid them out on the rocky ground, crying so hard that I couldn’t see. I begged God to take the puppies to Heaven, because they were good puppies and had never hurt anybody. I prayed and prayed that God would let those little souls into his kingdom, because if he didn’t, where would they have left to turn to?

I don’t know how long I sat in the ditch and cried, begging God for those puppies entrance into the Pearly Gates. But somewhere along the line, I felt a peace and confidence that God would answer my prayers. I left the tiny bodies there on the rocky ground, climbed out of the culvert, and went home.

The next day, I went back. The puppies were gone.

I realize as an adult that the little bodies were probably carried off in the night by some predator. It is the circle of life, the way of nature. But that day, in my heart, I knew that God had reached down from the sky and taken my puppies to Heaven. I was so happy, and I thanked God for giving my puppies a place in his kingdom.

It was the faith of a child that believed that God took seven little lifeless forms into Heaven. That faith was unshakable, and could never be broken.

I never forgot that day of prayer and tears in the culvert. It’s a reminder that faith is the cornerstone of all things, and that God hears all our prayers.

Even the ones made by little boys, who want their dogs to go to Heaven.

GET YOURSELF A DOGWOOD FACELIFT

Having pets is an adventure surrounded by a world of wonder.

In other words—you wonder how in the world you will live thru the next adventure.

It’s 24/7 at Dogwood—never a dull moment.

For example:

When bedtime rolls around at Dogwood, the dogs are the first to claim the valuable real estate. Once the dust settled and everyone has calmed down--the two kitty cats will sneak in and wedge themselves into the mix. Bart rolls all over everybody and usually settles in with Daisy somewhere near the foot board. Sebastian is MY cuddle bug. He has to be right up against my chest, with his head thrown back under my neck.

Well, one night recently, we were in a bit of disarray. Lucy was having an allergy itch, so she wanted to sleep between Better Half and me. Hines had burrowed under the covers on MY side, where he usually sleeps under the Better Half's protecting blanket. Daisy practically strapped to my back like a nap sack, her feet sticking straight out over my side. Charlie had completely called it quits and had gotten down into the floor, and after walking over me four or five times, Bart joined him.

By the time everyone shifted ten times and rolled over me a few more--I DIDN'T CARE!!

With Lucy and Daisy taking up most of the center of the bed, there just wasn't room for Sebastian on the edge. So he decided that lying on the pillow behind me would suffice.

He had never done this before, so I didn't think much about it. But as Sebastian is my most curious little man in the house-I should have known this was going to end badly.
He was lying at the top of the pillow and my head was at the bottom. I don’t think he was liking the fact that there was no “snuggie” element to this arrangement. He was bound and determined that he was going to rest his head on mine--but I was too far away.

Sebastian began reaching down into my hair and pulling it with his claws. He was rolling around on the top of the pillow, trying to figure out how he could transform himself into a cat fur bed cap and plop himself on my skull for the night. But all he managed to do was pull what’s left of my hair off the top of my head! I smacked at his little footie's several times, and finally he stopped.

I had just started to drift off to sleep when I felt the slightest twinge of pain on the right side of my head.

Then there was a HUGE stab of pain as little curious Sebastian dug his claws into both sides of my forehead and pulled.

If the man won't go to the mountain--bring the mountain to him-right??

For about three seconds, with Sebastian’s claws buried in my flesh, pulling it back on my head like silly putty--I must have looked like a fifteen year old--- a horrified--pain ridden--fifteen year old.

I ended up with a punctured headache . But my skull didn't hurt half as bad as Sebastian’s backside.

So now you know the story of how Sebastian gave me what has become lovingly known as :
A Dogwood Facelift.

ARE WE REALLY ALL THAT SUPERIOR???

The picture above came from a post on Facebook that was shared with me by a fellow animal warrior. I didn't event get to the text to read what it was about before the tears welled up in my eyes. But this is what it said:

Lily a 6 year old great dane lost his eyesight

due to a rare disease.


He became... disheartened
until he met Madison.


They have been together for 5 years
and Madison guides Lily by the leash
and touches him to make sure
he doesn't stumble over anything.


The picture reveals how dependent
and loving they are to each other.

The image of these two animals, helping each other, so lovingly watching over each other to ensure that "no one is left behind"---it just spoke VOLUMES to me in seconds.
These are the creatures that over half the population of the United States deem as DUMB ANIMALS. These are the creations of the ALMIGHTY GOD that people say have NO FEELING, NO EMOTIONS and NO SOUL.
These are the LIVING BREATHING THINGS that we mass murder DAILY in pounds ACROSS THE WORLD!
Yet, here they are--TWO SOULS helping each other thru life--showing more compassion--more heart--and more LOYALTY than most of the HUMANS WHO ARE WALKING, BREATHING, AND CLAIMING to be the SUPERIOR RACE.
I can't help but think that maybe we have it a bit more backward than popular opinion holds.

A Life of Blessing--and a Blessing for those Who are No More

    I have been blessed so much in my 43 years on this old Earth.

I was raised by good, hard working, decent parents who loved me, put up with me, and to this day--still do everything in their power to make my existence a better one.

I have always had a job--a car--and a place to call home.  I've had many people in my life that have made it better.  No more than the Better Half--who is my rock--my partner in life--and my best friend.

But God has always been generous to me--why I will never know.  Not only has he given me all of the above mentioned--but he sent MANY four legged felons into my life that have made my life SWEET and been nothing short of icing on the cake.

My first fur child was named King. He was my best pal from my earliest memory until he left me in 1981. There was a long pause in my life concerning animals--it just hurt too much to think about having another one break my heart.

But low and behold, when Lucy the lab stomped her paw print across my heart--the flood gates opened. Soon, Charlie came--then Pearl the cat--then Hines the rat terror (I mean terrier)--then Daisy--then Bart--then Sebastian.
I cannot list the number of fosters, rescues, and other four legged friends --some of who I never met personally--that touched my life and brought some sort of blessing to it.

When I received word that the Clarksville Humane Society was having a "Blessing of the Animals", and that all creatures great and small, living and past, would be blessed, I asked Humane Society Director Amy Shaver, and President Stacey Hopwood, to do me a personal long distance favor.

I had bought two of the memorial bricks through the Humane Society: one for my beloved King, and another for my sweet Pearl, who left us almost two years ago.

Amy held the bricks while Dorothy Hartzog, Assistant Rector at Trinity Episcopal Church, blessed the memorials to my babies.

She sent me these pics--and I wept--how could I not?  These two sweet furry souls, who now walk the fields of God, who meant so much to me in their lifetime--who changed MY lifetime by being a part of it--were blessed and remembered. 
What more can a man ask than to have a blessing?  I have had so many.  Now my babies have one too.
Someday, in whatever form we take when we cross over, I know that my loved ones--two and four legged--will be there looking for me.  Oh what a glorious day that will be! 
But for now---I am blessed--and so are they.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY CHARLIE!! DADDY'S BIG BOY!!!

Today, April 2nd, 2012, marks seven years since a little pup named Charlie came into my life.


It’s hard to believe my big boy is SEVEN. It seems like only yesterday that Better HAlf and I brought him home.

It was Saturday, April 2, 2005. Better Half and I went to Pet Food Center to buy Lucy's favorite treats. As we walked through the doors we spotted a gated, circular enclosure. Sitting inside on garish green outdoor carpet was a puppy, both tongue and tail wagging 90 miles an hour. The little mutt was so cute that I couldn't help but pet him.

A sign on the gate said, "My name is Charlie: Please take me home."
Better Half was the first to pick Charlie up. I felt it coming at me like a Mack truck: A house with two dogs.

It had been a little over a year since Lucy arrived, but I had just gotten used to sleeping with a dog that snored like a human chainsaw. Now I was going to have to live with another one?

Of course, I tried to argue that we couldn't afford two dogs, but we all know how the story ended. I left the store with a half pound of treats under one arm, and 10 pounds of pup under the other.

Lucy met us at the back door. She was not pleased.
She eyed us as if to say, "I sent you for treats and you brought me THIS?"
But her displeasure soon turned to affection. It wasn’t that long before she attached herself to the goofy little prince that followed her everywhere. That bond is still as strong as ever.

Charlie grew like a weed—a stink weed that is, but became a magnificent dog nonetheless. He grew up way too fast. He wasn’t a small pup for long. It seemed to happen literally overnight. One day he was whimpering by the bedside, too small to climb up. The next, I was having to hang a leg over him so we’d all fit on the bed.

My Charlie: a tad mischievous, a little dirty, and at times, a bit trying of my patience. But I can’t imagine life without him.

From that gentle, furry face shines the brightest, most faithful light of love in the universe. I marvel at that light and wish I could be more like him.

You see, that’s why Charlie is so special to me. When God made his precious, loyal and loving heart, he made it just for me.

That sweet pup has been, and always will be, my best friend.

Every year on his birthday I take out a carefully preserved bit of cardboard. It’s something I have held onto over the years because it means so much to me.

It reminds me that life is full of surprises and that blessing come in many, many different packages.

On the cardboard is written, “My name is Charlie. Please take me home.”

I love you, Charlie! Happy Birthday to Daddy's Big Boy!!