My precious Buddy crossed the Rainbow Bridge sixteen years ago.
And while Buddy was a female dog, a Shih Tzu, I endowed her
with a moniker which expressed the quality and depth of the relationship which
I, ultimately, established with her. And I could not have given her a more
appropriate name. Buddy.
Her life was simply a grace, and she was, as scripture
characterizes it, “a friend who loves at all times.”
I have previously written about Buddy’s unique wherewithal to
complete the mission which I am convinced that God assigned her; before He made
the worlds.
The dear little bedraggled pooch showed up in my front yard
one day in 1996; having apparently “made good her escape” from parts unknown.
From that time forward she became “part and parcel” of our lives, and, (as any
dog owner can relate) she soon became “family.”
However, for a very brief period of time, we kept her in the
garage. And one day, as she patiently waited to become a full-fledged member of
the family, and my wife was home alone, Jean heard the garage door go up, and
Buddy began barking. As soon as the door went up, it came back down. And while
Buddy’s 15 pound physique was more bark than bite, her bark was apparently
enough to scare the intruder away.
Then, there was the time when our daughter was involved in a
divorce, and had temporarily moved back into our home. As “Kinsey” lay on her
bed crying, Buddy found a place on the floor beside her. And though I tried to
get her to ride to town with me, (and more than once), she maintained her
empathetic, solitary vigil.
Then, there was the time when Buddy began following my wife
around the house, a habit that only abated when Jean lay down one day, and was
overcome with despair, and a sensation that she was dying. Given Buddy’s
apparent wherewithal to literally smell the ‘villain,’ and the emotions which
overcame my wife, I encouraged her to make an immediate appointment with her
doctor; upon which a mammogram was ordered, and a malignant tumor was
discovered; (which thankfully was remedied by a lumpectomy).
I have often surmised that our little Buddy fulfilled her
mission in life; (while many people never do). And in retrospect, I have mused
that if any creature possessed the wherewithal to make herself known after her
demise, Buddy was a very likely candidate.
Pt. 2
Our
precious pooch had only recently crossed the Rainbow Bridge, and I was grieving
her; as I had never grieved man, or beast in my almost six decades on this
planet.
One
late evening, after I resorted to my bed, and was attempting to sleep, I sensed
something; an extraordinary something. For something invisible, but which
manifested weight, was suddenly 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
beside me allowed me to feel it.
Since
my wife is a nurse, and we ‘enjoyed’ different schedules, she and I had long
since maintained separate bedrooms. Buddy slept on my bed. And this dear little
critter spent her last night on earth on my bed.
I
can tell you that while I was surprised at the foregoing development, there was
absolutely no fear. But rather, 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. And in like manner, I
cannot begin to tell you now whether the second manifestation occurred on the
same, or on a different evening.
But
as I was drifting off to sleep on that, or a different night, I sensed a
familiar ‘something’ at my feet.
I
kept a pillow for Buddy at that end of the bed, and when wakefulness gave way
to drowsiness, it was her practice to seek out that small piece of rectangular
comfort. And while our dear pooch had ceased to live and breathe and move, the
pillow has remained in its same old place. (And though almost a decade and a
half has come and gone since she “gave up the ghost,” I have maintained the
practice of laying a pillow at the foot of my bed).
I
suddenly felt an invisible weight lying against my right foot. Invisible, yet
tangible. And I felt that same sense of comfort, as I did when she lay against
my shoulder. I was afraid to move. I wanted whatever grace I had been
momentarily given to linger.
But
as I recall, when I finally dared shift my position, the magic ended, and the
weighty sensation with it.
Pt. 3
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 ten feet ahead of me, what seemed to be a little white pooch
appeared out of nothingness, slowly walked across my path way, 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.
At least if you believe
Psalm 36:6,
“You, Lord preserve
mankind and animals, alike.”
Pt. 4
My little Buddy crossed
the Rainbow Bridge far too soon. Like many of her breed, she experienced
allergies, and had to have steroidal medication to keep her from scratching her
eyes out. As a result, through the years her liver values rose. I often mused
that it was like taking poison to stay alive. She left us literally in the
course of a night, and only graced this earth an all too brief decade in time.
And after she left us, I
could hardly be consoled. However, among those who offered their consolation, I
recall two in particular. Darlene M. and Melodi W. The former sent me a lovely
card which I scanned, and still post on the social media pages of those whose
pet pooches have recently crossed the Rainbow Bridge. The latter of these
wonderful ladies offered me an encouraging written sentiment which included, as
I recall, the hope and the promise that I would see my precious Buddy again one
day.
(And as I have
recounted, I both saw her again, and experienced her unseen presence; sooner
than I had any reason to expect).
Recently, I recounted some unexplained visitations:
“Today is the 14th
anniversary of my dear Buddy’s journey across the Rainbow Bridge. And while I
haven’t seen or heard ‘hide nor hair’ from her since those manifestations
immediately after her passing, some mighty peculiar things have been happening
the past few days.
Nearly a decade and a
half after my Buddy’s ethereal trip across the Rainbow Bridge, she (or perhaps
God, Himself) made the decision to expend a bit more grace upon me.
I was lying in my easy
chair in the wee hours of the morning, and sleeping well when…
I heard something in our
back room.
Like a dog shaking water
off her back after a summer swim. And two unspoken words seemed to accompany
the auditory sensation I have previously described.
“Hello again!”
Pt. 5
My dear little Buddy had
returned; if only for a moment. And yet, for the brevity of her visitation, I
was both excited and encouraged by her unexpected visit. And it was then that I
glanced at the time on my cable box, and noticed it indicated 3:16am. (And for
anyone who is versed in scripture, those numbers are especially meaningful).
And I thought, Grace.
And indeed, I could not help but think of this “strange and wonderful”
occurrence, as anything but Grace.
The same thing happened
again a few days later. And I thought,
“If any creature God
ever made deserved an opportunity to make herself known, after he or she had
left this earthly sphere, it was my little Buddy.” (And it occurred to me that
my precious little creature had managed to do something that Harry Houdini, the
great magician, had promised to do, but failed to keep his promise).
But to return to my
account.
“A couple of days ago I
was seated at a table, (the location is unimportant) when suddenly something
touched my right leg, as if an unseen creature had thrown its front paws up
onto my thigh. And I knew. I just knew.
“Buddy was saying, ‘Hello
again!’
“14 years since the
lovely little creature crossed the Rainbow Bridge. 14. 7x2. Seven being the
perfect number. 7x2 = 14.
“Without question, or
contradiction, Buddy was doubly perfect.”
Well, I would soon
discover there was a lot more to the second round of Buddy’s posthumous
visitations, than I have described, above.
Pt. 6
For you see, a few days
ago I received a message from my friend, Melodi W. Her precious pooch, Angelo,
a Jack Russell Terrier, crossed the Rainbow Bridge last week.
Melodi told me that she
adopted the precious creature when he was one, and that he was fifteen when he
crossed the Rainbow Bridge. She went on to say,
“The past few months I
would carry him out to the yard, and he would lift his nose to heaven with his
eyes closed, as if he was smelling the sky.
“I told him that’s what
he has to look forward to, and that is what heaven will be like. I could almost
feel he would be there shortly. I think my Dad needed him, and is showing him
all the mountains, and valleys, and places to run.”
My friend continued her
account.
“Angelo loved to play
ball, and chicken. He loved to run with me and sleep in my bed. He knew when I
was sad, and wouldn’t leave my side. He was a big baby, and loved to lie on his
back, and let me massage his stomach. He would fall asleep upside down.”
Apparently, Angelo left
in a moment, and didn’t suffer. And I thought, “It was especially merciful that
both my Buddy, and Melodi’s Angelo left us with little or no suffering.”
And it suddenly occurred
to me.
Whereas, Buddy had
chosen to remain silent, and unseen since just after she pitter-pattered across
the Rainbow Bridge, I think her excitement knew no bounds when she discovered
Angelo was about to make the same journey, and join her in the hereafter.
Someone has referred to
it as “Poetic License,” …but I can just see Jesus scooping up my bless-ed pooch
in His arms, and with a whimsical smile on His face, He whispers in her ear,
“Buddy, you never knew
Melodi, and you never met her wonderful little friend, Angelo; (though the two
of you shared a little time and space on the beautiful planet I created).
“My servant, Melodi
encouraged your master after you crossed the Rainbow Bridge, and joined me in
this marvelous place. And it will soon be Angelo’s turn to cross over, and join
us here. And… I think the two of you should meet.”
And it all became
crystal clear to me.
This is why Buddy chose
to say, “Hello again.” For I think she was overwhelmed with joy that our Lord
had chosen a special companion for her, and that Angelo would make his
appearance in a few short days. And my precious pooch longed to share her joy
with the someone who had loved her so well, and for so long.
And now, with a wink and
a nod, and as He bent to place the little Shih Tzu upon the golden street, the
Savior’s voice erupted like a stream of mighty waters, and His victorious shout
reached a thundering crescendo…
“Go. Go share your joy
with your earthly friend. But come back quickly. Don’t delay. Your former
master will understand soon enough.”
And with this, the
bless-ed creature looked lovingly into the eyes of the One who created her, and
seconds later she momentarily relinquished her Heavenly Home in favor of an
earthly one.
Pt. 7
Of course, after my dear
friend, Melodi shared the news of her sweet’s Angelo’s passing with me, “my
eyes were opened” and I could not help but share my newfound insight with her.
It was my turn to
encourage Melodi. (And what a joy for me to do so).
And she responded with,
“Awe, Dr. Bill!!! Thank
you for this hope and reminder!!! I really needed this right now! I was
visiting with my Mom when Angelo passed away, so I wasn’t here to tell him
‘good bye.’ I am so happy you had this experience because it was for me too!!!
Angelo was my best friend, and walked through my divorce, and my Dad’s
homegoing. I could always count on him!
“Last night the sunset
had a silver lining around the clouds, and I felt like God was saying to me
that, ‘There is always a silver lining in every situation, even as dark as it
may seem.’
“I love you, and I’m
thankful you shared this story with me!!!
“My dad adored Angelo,
and I can see Jesus saying,
‘Get ready, Bob. Your
buddy is almost here!’
“Maybe my Dad needed
someone from our family, and Jesus didn’t want to take me, or my Mom away;
because we still have work to do here.”
(and)
“Your words and
encounter with Buddy the past few weeks were meant to help me! God knew you
could share this with me to give me peace that they are closer than we know.
I’m trying to stay busy because everything around me reminds me of him.
“He was such a huge part
of my everyday life. He was always beside me. I believe my Dad knew and was
waiting for him. He loved Angelo so much and would throw the ball to him for
hours. I love and appreciate your encouragement more than you will ever know.”
Pt. 8
On the back cover of my
little volume, “A Man’s Tribute to His Beloved Dogs,” I wrote a reflection for
anyone who loves their pets, and expects to see them again one day.
(And I think the
following reminiscence should encourage the Bill’s and Melodi’s, and all the
other believers of the world, that their Buddy’s and Angelo’s will… be waiting
for them).
“But perhaps our Savior
will smile, and beckon with His hand, as if to say, ‘Well, there she is. What
are you waiting for? There’s fields and flowers and trees aplenty. Romp and run
and carry on. Love that little puppy of yours for all you’re worth.’
“And with this, I’ll
turn and my most favorite creature will be looking up at me expectantly; eyes
shining, ears twitching and tail wagging. With this, my heart will skip a few
beats, and I’ll scoop her up in my arms, and she will rest contentedly against
my shoulder. And best of all, we will remember one another, and the love we
knew will be undimmed and stronger for the years we were apart.”
I can just see Bob and
Angelo playing a game of catch on the heavenly streets. And now, the precious
pooch misses one toss, and the ball bounces up to the foot of their Savior.
Bob and Angelo seem
frozen in place, as our Lord looks down at the glorious pavement; where gold is
as common, and plentiful as the concrete and asphalt of an earthly street.
And then, the Alpha and
Omega, the First and the Last, the Lion of the tribe of Judah, the Holy One of
the ages, the great “I AM,”… smiles a smile that would light up the world,
bends at the waist, recovers the ball, and tosses it to Angelo. And it seems
the puppy’s joy knows no bounds. And he scampers off to retrieve it.
Now, my little Buddy
appears, and in some mysterious way known only to God, the precious pooches recognize
each other. And with tails wagging, and eyes glistening, they run towards one
another, and their noses touch.
And now, Angelo forgets
his game of catch, (but not his dear friend, Bob), and he scampers towards a
nearby stream. And my precious little Buddy is not all that far behind him.
by William McDonald, PhD
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