A BOY & HIS DOG. PT. 3

Sue continues her story.

“From that time forward Fluffy virtually lived on Wade’s lap. Whenever we returned from visiting, shopping or some miscellaneous errand, and drove into the yard, Fluffy would greet our van, spring onto the wheelchair lift, and take her customary ride to the ground with him. No one could deny, she was Wade’s dog.”

While Spina Bifida is not always a terminal condition, in terms of the physiological challenges with which Wade contended, it almost always is. 

And as Providence would have it, Wade ultimately succumbed to his malady. And, I think, God dispatched a very special angel to assist him with his journey across that great divide which separates heaven and earth. 

“The first few times we came home without Wade, Fluffy would meet our van, and stand looking at the door; from whence our son routinely made his appearance. However, when she realized the lift wasn’t being lowered, and her favorite human did not appear, she surrendered any further attempt to greet her bewilderingly absent owner, and remained on the porch swing.”

Wade’s precious pooch just seemed to give up, and it was all Sue or Clarence could do to get her to eat anything. Within weeks, Fluffy met her own special angel; (and at least I like to think, he looked a great deal like

… Wade).

Sue has surmised that the little creature died, not so much from hunger, as from a 

…broken heart.”

(And who can say? Perhaps in the grand scheme of things there was something intuitive about the fluffy little pooch, and perhaps unconsciously, she took the only approach available to her; by which she might rejoin her dearly departed companion).

And while Fluffy, the 'Heintz 57' canine did not, ultimately, receive the recognition of a headstone or public memorial, she was, nonetheless, loved beyond degree.

(To be continued)

By William McDonald, PhD. Excerpt from "(Mc)Donald's Daily Diary" Vol. 47. Copyright pending

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