CLAIMING YOUR STAR. Pts. 1-4

My wife and I took in a movie today with the unusual title, “The Glass Castle;” based on the autobiography of Jeanette Walls.

“The Glass Castle” was one of the most unusual stories to which I have ever been exposed, or seen characterized on the big screen. And without giving away the plot, it is enough for my purposes here to allude to a particular scene in the movie.

Strangely enough, Rex Walls and his daughter are lying in the snow together outside their dilapidated West Virginia cabin; looking up at the stars.

Suddenly, the father speaks.

“Jeanette, your sisters and brother have already claimed a star. It’s your turn to pick one out for yourself.”

And with this the little girl responds,

“I’ve never heard of anyone claiming a star, Daddy. “

Her daughter’s answer elicits a smile that would light up all outdoors, and Rex exclaims,

“All the more reason to claim one. There’s millions of them, and they’re free for the asking!”

And with this Jeanette points towards an especially bright one, and says, “I’ll take that one.”

And the conversation continues.

(Rex) “But that’s Venus, silly girl. Venus is a planet, and it’s much smaller than all those stars. It just looks bigger ‘cause it’s closer.”

(Jeanette) “It’s still the one I want, Daddy.”

(Rex) “So be it, daughter. I do decree that the planet Venus is yours, now and forever more.”

And now it was the little girl’s turn to smile.

Pt. 2

I have often thought that heaven must be like that. It is ours for the claiming. After all, scripture is very clear on the subject.

“For God so loved the world that He gave His only begotten Son that whosoever believes in Him should not perish but have everlasting life.” John 3:16

(and)

“That if you will confess with your mouth the Lord Jesus, and believe in your heart that God has raised Him from the dead, you will be saved.” Romans 10:9

(and)

“If we confess our sins, He is faithful and just to forgive our sins, and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness.” 1^st John 1:9

And while I claimed heaven as my own a full half century ago, as the result of the formula which God expressed in the preceding scriptural passages, this blog is less about me, and for that matter, less about human beings, than it is another species.

The date was January 18, 2007. Ten months had elapsed since the death of my precious little Shih Tzu, “Buddy” and I was finally ready to adopt what would ultimately be the third of four pooches in my lifetime; (for at this writing the fourth, also a Shih Tzu, is sleeping on my recliner, and I don’t intend to bring another on board).

However, as I have previously inferred, the third of the four happens to be my chief focus this evening.

I had driven to the local SPCA with the sole intention of bringing a small dog home with me. Yet, when I walked into the building, and the attendant ushered me from cage to cage, it was soon obvious that the vast majority of their dogs were of the 50-100 lb. variety; with the exception of two. 

Pt. 3

One was little more than a weaned puppy of some non-descript variety. However, he (or she) looked a bit sick and unresponsive, and I thought it best to avoid doing something I might later regret. The second of the two was, my canine travel guide informed me, a Corgi-? mix. And indeed, she bore some of the characteristics of Queen Elizabeth’s purebred’s. (To be sure, some, but not all). However, as with the first pooch, I was a bit underwhelmed with her looks. Even to my untrained eye, it was obvious that “Prudence” was already a middle-aged dog, and I was in the market for a young one.

But suddenly it occurred to me. Given her age, it was unlikely that Prudence would be adopted by anyone during the requisite countdown period, and her unhappy fate was all but certain…unless I immediately relented, and signed my name on the doggie adoption certificate.

While I simply did not want a dog that was “halfway home,” the notion that the aging dog would be probably be euthanized in the coming days was more than I could bear. And thus, as you may have guessed by now, I did the deed, and Prudence and I summarily walked out of the animal shelter together.

And as I drove from Lakeland to Winter Haven, a distance of perhaps ten miles, I cast my eyes on the Corgi wannabe, and asked the aging pooch the most remarkable question.

“Hey Prudence, do you wanna go to heaven?”

And with this, (I kid you not) this not so royal critter jerked her head in my direction, and provided the sort of non-verbal response that was, at the same time, both inquisitive and affirming, as if to say,

“It’s okay with me, bub. Yes, honestly I think that is an absolutely lovely idea. Let’s do it.”

And given her favorable response, I followed up with a formal acknowledgement.

“Well then, it’s settled. I claim you for God, and the heaven He created.”

(and)

“When you have lived out your appointed days, wait for me. I’ll join you there one day.”

Pt. 4

Before day gave way to night, my wife and I had subtracted the name, “Prudence” from our aging dog’s repertoire, and graced her with a new moniker. “Lucy.” And before six years gradually ticked their way off the calendar, and our precious pooch went on to her reward, she became the proud recipient of a virtual dictionary of names. (You would have thought she was a member of the royal household).

“Lucy Ellen Snow Henrietta Nine McDonald”

(Don’t even ask. Time would fail me to write about it here).

I have always been glad I gave Lucy the opportunity to live and not die. At least my decision to adopt her provided the little pooch several more years in which to live and breathe and move on this planet; and to bring a little happiness to us in return. And for this, I am grateful.

And what of that heavenly claim I made on Lucy’s behalf on the first of  2,000 days, (give or take a couple hundred) which we spent in one another’s presence?

There is a poignant verse of scripture in Psalm 36:6. (To my knowledge, the only one like it in all of scripture).

“You (meaning God) preserve both men and animals.”

A very interesting verse, indeed! (And my friend, I don’t mind telling you, I’m counting on it).

In my book, “A Man’s Tribute to His Devoted Dogs,” I have included a reflection of what it will certainly be like when I transcend this life, and make my way through the pearly gates.

“But perhaps Our Savior will smile, and beckon with His hand, as if to say, ‘Well, Bill there they are. What are you waiting for? There’s fields and flowers and trees aplenty. Go for it. Romp and run and carry on. Love those Wonderful Little Puppies of yours for all you’re worth.’

And with this I’ll turn, and my Most Favorite Creatures will be looking up at me, expectantly; eyes shining, ears twitching and tails wagging. With this, my heart will skip a few beats, and I’ll scoop them up into my arms. And they’ll rest contentedly against my shoulders.

And best of all… we’ll remember one another, and the love we knew will be undimmed, and stronger for the years we were apart.”

(Mc)Donald's Daily Diary. Vol. 66. By William McDonald, PhD. Copyright pending. If you wish to copy, save or share, please include the credit line, above