PRINCESS

For no apparent reason I was just thinking about the ‘collection’ of canines which I have owned, (or which owned me) over the past sixty (count ‘em 60) years.

I was about eight when my mother ‘got wind’ of a black and white Cocker Spaniel which had been discovered by a patrolman wandering the streets. I suppose she knew one of the secretaries in the police department, and as a result she inquired about adopting the homeless little tyke. To say I was thrilled would have been an understatement. I have long since forgotten who named her; one of my parents, one of my siblings, or I. But suffice it to say, whatever her name had been, she became ‘Princess’ to us.

We might have owned the precious pooch a year… before she left us. And unlike her departure from whomever first loved her, her second departure proved to be a bit more permanent. While I can’t account for it, (given her personal history) it seems Princess lived outside and we allowed her to come and go pretty much as she pleased.

And on such and such a day a dump truck came rumbling down Formosa Avenue, as our street was in the process of being repaved. Well, apparently my dear little Princess’ instinct ‘for the chase’ kicked in about that time, and she did something I’d never known her to do before.

The results of her momentary temptation was disastrous. For as Princess set out on her one way journey to oblivion, the driver of the big truck sped up, and jerked its right front wheel towards …and over our pride and joy.

My brothers and I were in school when the momentous (at least to us) event occurred. My mother, however, happened to be looking out the front window and witnessed the sorry scenario. Gathering up our mortally injured black and white Spaniel, she placed Princess on a blanket and laid her on the front seat beside her. Before driving to the nearest vet, mama drove the half a block to where the construction crew was doing what construction crews do, stopped next to the suspect dump truck, and gave the unrepentant driver ‘what for.’ In no uncertain terms, she made him aware of the existence of her three little children; who must very shortly receive the most painful news they’d ever yet received.

There was simply nothing the doctor could do to save our little Princess. She was too broken up, and thus… was mercifully dispatched. No doubt, my mother dreaded having to tell her children their beloved pooch was gone, but as soon as we opened the door she sat us down, and proceeded to say what had to be said, and do what had to be done.

I have long since forgotten how my brothers received the news. But as for me, I was nothing less than mortified, and could not be comforted. This was to be my first, (though by no means the least or the last) of many instances in my life in which, (as the song relates) ‘my heart was pained too deeply for mirth or song.’

There is a passage in the Psalms which reads in part, “I was young and now I am old and yet…” Well, I was young and now I am old and yet… I have never altogether gotten past that day. Though six decades have come and gone, I cannot but think of that little black and white Cocker Spaniel without tears in my eyes.

I fully intend to see Princess again one day. For you see, I’m convinced that heaven wouldn’t be heaven without the presence of our precious pets; which we loved and enjoyed so much on this side of glory.

I once wrote a paragraph which characterized my perception of that yet to be realized experience; (though for the life of me I cannot locate it). The best I can do at this juncture is paraphrase it here.

As much as earth’s attractions compel me to stay, I am all too aware that none so far have yet managed such a feat. But can leaving be all that difficult when all that have gone before us, both known and unknown, await our entrance? Parents, Grandparents, unmet ancestors, dear friends and acquaintances.

Our beloved pets which brightened our days and cheered our nights, but which were denied, on a human strata, length of days; and which we loved over the course of the comparatively long years bestowed upon us.

I long to be reunited with those precious little pooches which graced my young and not so young life on earth, and which will, no doubt, enhance all that I presently know and believe about the life to come.

I can almost seeing them running towards me. Princess, the black & white Cocker Spaniel. Buddy, the white & auburn Shih Tzu. Lucy, the tan Corgi, and Queenie, the white & gray Shih Tzu mix. By now they’ve had time for formal introductions, and to interact in whatever fashion God allows animals to interact on ‘that side of the eternal curtain.’

And I think for all the years which have elapsed… it will seem like no time at all. And for all the toll that time has taken, and for all our trial and trouble our youth will have been restored.

I can imagine my vain attempt to outrun those four-legged critters, as we scamper through meadows; bedecked with flowers of the most unimaginable colors. I can see one or the other of my precious pooches pause to nibble at a daisy, or chase a lazy bumble bee.

And ultimately, those bless-ed creatures and I shall arrive at the River of Life; where the fishing’s always good, the breeze is always sweet, and our companionship next to perfect.


 By William McDonald, PhD. Excerpt from (Mc)Donald's Daily Diary. Vol. 45. Copyright pending
 
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