PREPARING TO LEAVE. Pts. 1-3

I read a very interesting article yesterday which addressed the topic of an animal’s awareness of death, and whether (or not) they have any comprehension of their own impending deaths.

The vet who wrote the article provided some poignant examples to which she had been exposed.

In the one case she had made a house visit to euthanize an aging dog. As she did what animal doctors do, and the deed was done, suddenly the owner’s two other pet pooches ran up, and they laid down, one on each side of the dying animal, and began to howl.

In another instance, the doctor was doing very much the same thing, and as she found the vein and proceeded to, well, you know, a large house cat strode up, and placed one of his paws on the leg of the dying dog, as if to say,

“You’re not alone, my friend. Rest easy. I’m with you.”

During the course of my lifetime, I have been privileged to know and love four dogs; three of which have passed from this life. Amazingly, my first dog “pitter pattered across the Rainbow Bridge” a full 60 years ago.

In the several months, I published a little book titled, “A Man’s Tribute to His Devoted Dogs;” a duel volume which memorialized two of the four dogs to which I previously alluded. Near the end of the one book, “My Little Buddy” I gave an account of a couple of incidents which forever settled in my mind the matter of an animal’s awareness of death.

Perhaps a week before my little Buddy passed away, I prepared to lay down for a nap. And since it was my habit to put my precious pooch at the end of the bed, whenever I took a nap or retired for the night, there was no question about doing so that day.

Pt. 2

Well, we both settled in for a nice afternoon nap, and things fell together pretty much as you might expect. However, when I woke up a couple hours later, I sat up and prepared to retrieve my little pooch from her personal pillow. Buddy lay there staring towards the wall, and …she was trembling. Of course, at the time, I didn’t think all that much about it. In retrospect, I am convinced that the dear little Shih Tzu was, at that moment, experiencing some sort of premonition of things to come.

A couple days later, my wife and I had left our little Buddy with her sister, Sue and took a much needed mini-vacation to Hilton Head, South Carolina. Whereas, our precious canine had been steadily declining, and I had been thinking of having the precious creature euthanized when we returned, I could not bring myself to “do the deed” prior to our trip.

And speaking of an animal’s awareness of their own impeding death, something else occurred which cemented my opinion in this regard. For you see, Shih Tzu’s can be rather territorial, and enjoy their own space. And Buddy was no exception. She never cared all that much about being held, and she tended to lay on a particular spot on the carpet of my living room, while my wife and I watched television; and always six or eight feet from my recliner.

And in much the same way, I’m convinced that Buddy chose her own time and place to pitter patter across the proverbial Rainbow Bridge. We had only arrived home from our trip to Hilton Head the previous evening, and when I awoke during the wee hours of the night of the day which followed, Buddy was in a bad way. Her tongue was pasty white, and her respirations were erratic.

It was apparent that Buddy was actively dying, and there would be no need for any additional assistance in that regard.

Pt. 3

As the day dawned, I lifted my dear little pooch from her pillow, and cradling her in my arms, I walked into the living room, and set her down on her doggie bed; on that same old spot on the carpet. And with this, I decided to call a client, who was scheduled to come in that morning, and made him aware that my furry friend was in the process of dying, and that I would need to reschedule him for a later date.

As I completed my call, and stepped from the dining room into the living room, I looked over at Buddy, and it was obvious that God had “blown His heavenly doggie whistle,” and that her suffering was over. My dear canine’s labored breathing had ceased, and she was as quiet and peaceable in death.

And before much time had elapsed, it occurred to me.

Buddy had waited until we returned home. She had waited out the night. And she had waited to be placed in her favorite spot. And she had waited ‘til I stepped away for a moment.

She had chosen her time and her place to pitter patter across the Rainbow Bridge, and into the arms of her Creator.

Yes, I am convinced that animals possess a personal awareness of death, and that they also possess some notion of their own impending deaths. And you might be interested to know, I am equally convinced that believers will see their precious pets again one day.

Psalm 36:6 assures us that,

“The Lord PRESERVES both man and animals, alike.”

Following is an excerpt from my little volume.

“I was speaking to another animal lover recently. I shared my still-lingering heartache with her. Melodi was able to come along side, since Her Little Palmer died several years ago. And there are the emotions and those things that still trigger her memories. We rattled on for well over half an hour, and she said the most amazing thing…

‘Bill, I’m convinced that you’ll see Your Little Buddy again. I’m sure she’ll be in heaven waiting for you.’

Those words encouraged me, and were ‘for such a time as this,’ since I’ve thought about that possibility a lot since she left us. And I’ve questioned how heaven can be heaven if our dear little pets aren’t allowed there. 

    Oh, the thrill. Oh, the delight. If God allows me to see my dear pooches again. 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 Two Most Favorite Creatures will be looking up at me, expectantly; eyes shining, ears twitching and tails wagging.

And my heart will skip a few beats, and I’ll scoop them up into my arms; one in each, 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’ve missed.”

by William McDonald, PhD. Excerpt from (Mc)Donald's Daily Diary, Vol. 71. Copyright Pending.

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