While I am a prolific writer, and have written numerous volumes, I have, thus far, only published one; a book which I titled, “A Man’s Tribute to His Devoted Dogs.”
In this particular book I reminisced about two of my dearly departed pooches; “Lucy” and “Buddy.” The following reminiscence is about the latter of the two.
In spite of the name, Buddy was a female. She came to us early in the Spring of 1996, and went on to her reward in the Winter of 2006. The days, months and years which transpired during this decade were nothing less than a blessing to those who loved her.
I discovered the little white and auburn Shih Tzu in my front yard one day, and very much not to my credit, I didn’t bother checking for a chip, nor did I contact the county animal shelter. I simply “took her in” and made her my own. Dear readers, Shih Tzu’s don’t come cheap, and no doubt someone continues to wonder what happened to, well whatever they called her, to this day.
This dear, precious pooch was simply special. But I suppose the foregoing adjectives are proof enough of our feelings for her. I was, and continue to be convinced that Buddy was sent here to fulfill a mission. For you see, there were at least three times during her all too brief lifetime that she served a purpose greater than herself.
Once, during the brief time I required her to live in my garage, I was uptown, and my wife was home alone. Suddenly, Jean heard the garage door open, and Buddy immediately began barking at whomever intruded on our sanctity. With this, my wife heard the garage door go back down. When I returned home, I discovered some greasy footprints in the driveway.
Pt. 2
Another time, my daughter was experiencing marital issues, and she had returned home for a few days. Of course, “Margaret” was inconsolable, and was spending time in what used to be her bedroom. Buddy would not leave her side, though a couple of times, I invited her to accompany me to the post office, or where ever else I was going at that moment.
Then, over the course of several days Buddy began to follow my wife around the house. They say you need to pay attention if and when a dog suddenly begins to follow you; when he never has in the past. Shortly thereafter, Jean “took to her bed.” She felt an overwhelming oppressiveness, as if death, itself was crushing the life out of her. Of course, I encouraged her to make an appointment with her doctor, which she did. And after running a few tests, he discovered she had contracted breast cancer. Thankfully, the malignant tumor was caught early, she underwent a lumpectomy, and multiplied radiation treatments, and, all thanks to God, she is a survivor.
Did I say that Buddy was special? (Yeah, I thought I did).
My little Buddy slept on a pillow at the foot of my bed every night. And every time I resorted to that 50 square feet of rectangular comfort which was my mattress, I gathered Buddy up, and took her with me.
Of course, all good things come to an end, and I have often thought that the days which the Creator granted to a dog are all too few. I have read someone’s musing that, “the reason a dog doesn’t live as long as a human being is that a dog doesn’t need as long to learn to be perfect.” Well, my friends, I believe it.
Pt. 3
My little Buddy experienced severe allergies, and, as a result, the vet prescribed a steroidal medication for her. Without the medication, she would have literally scratched her eyes out. With the medication, Buddy gained weight, and her liver values began to rise. After she left us, I often thought that it was like giving her poison to keep her alive.
Speaking of leaving us, about a week before, well, you know, I was lying in bed with Buddy, and she began to shiver, though the heater was on, and the house was warm. As I reflect on that day now, I am convinced that she experienced some sort of momentary premonition that she was about to “cross the Rainbow Bridge.”
One evening, as we lay in bed, Buddy’s respiration drastically increased, and a few minutes later, it slowed markedly. This pattern continued throughout the night. Of course, it was excruciating to me to lay there, and watch, and listen to my precious pooch. But I refused to move her to her kennel, or a nearby couch. I would be here for her, as she had been here for me, and the other members of our household. When the morning came, and I woke from my troubled sleep, I examined Buddy. Her breathing was slow, and unsteady, and her tongue was pasty white. I knew she was about to cross that proverbial bridge.
After I dressed, I picked my precious Buddy up, went into the living room, and laid her down in a doggie bed we kept in the living room. Having walked into my office, I called a client, and retraced my steps to where Buddy peacefully lay. Too peacefully. She had pitter-pattered her way across the Rainbow Bridge.
Pt. 4
Did I mention that Buddy slept on a pillow at the end of my bed? (Yeah, I thought I did). And while our dear pooch had ceased to live and breathe and move a few days earlier, the pillow remained in its same old place.
Well, after I retired to my bedroom one evening, I suddenly felt an invisible weight against my right foot; which was lying against Buddy’s pillow. The perception there was something there was at the same time invisible, yet tangible. And there was such a sense of comfort which accompanied that something. And yet, I was afraid. Afraid to move. I wanted whatever grace I had been momentarily given to linger a bit longer. But as I recall, when I finally dared shift my position, the magic ended, and the weighty sensation with it.
It may have been the same night, or perhaps it was a day or two later, but again, I sensed something; an extraordinary something. For something invisible, but which manifested weight, was lying against my right shoulder! And there was this uncanny sense of respiration! In and out. In and out. And while I don’t recall actually hearing that recurrent exchange of oxygen, the proximity of the being allowed me to feel it.
I can tell you that while I was surprised at this development, there was absolutely no fear. But again, there was a sense of comfort, and the identity of my nocturnal visitor was readily apparent to me.
At this juncture, I can’t tell you how long the miraculous visitation lasted, perhaps as little as a minute, perhaps as many as five.
Afterwards
As I was walking in my neighborhood one evening, perhaps a month after the loss of my beloved Buddy, and I found myself reminiscing about the old girl,
…I saw it,
(or should I use a different pronoun)?
…I saw her.
Suddenly, not thirty feet ahead of me, what seemed to be a little white pooch appeared out of nothingness, slowly walked across my pathway, and entered my neighbor’s front yard.
And as quickly as she appeared, she immediately relinquished her physicality.
I can’t account for why I was blessed to realize such momentary manifestations of my precious pooch. But at least for me there remains that quiet reassurance that our pets are alive and well, and reside in a land where the roses never fade, and no tear dims the eye.
A decade and a half after she crossed the Rainbow Bridge, my little Buddy’s pillow remains at the end of my bed.
by William McDonald, PhD. Copyright pending
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