GRAVE DIGGER

 4392

Pt. 1

My great grandfather was a cemetery caretaker and gravedigger, or sexton.

I expect he dug many graves by hand in his day and time, but I can't speak conclusively about such matters. Perhaps he had the benefit of an early mechanical excavator.

And while during the course of my three quarters of a century I have been involved in almost fifty jobs of every imaginable variety, I have yet to dig a grave... at least one designed for human beings.

Oops, I owe myself a quarter. I actually buried my father and mother. I kid you not. (Well, to be sure, I dug the holes in front of their headstone... into which I committed their mortal cremains).

However, as I have inferred, above, my lack of experience digging six foot deep, five foot wide holes in the ground has in no way deterred me from accomplishing smaller projects of the same variety.

For you see, beginning a couple of decades ago I committed my first pet pooch to the ground. Buddy was a female shih tzu of the exceptional variety. I actually wrote a book about her. She was extraordinary in every way. Time and space prevent me from elaborating, except to say that she fulfilled her mission here; whereas, some people never do. After she crossed the proverbial Rainbow Bridge, I buried her beneath an old oak tree on my "back 40."

Since then, I have buried two more, and memorialized two which are buried elsewhere. For you see, each one has a store-bought, custom-made slate marker bearing their photo, DOB & DOD, and a few fitting words. The most ancient of them all, Princess, a beloved black & white cocker spaniel, made the journey, common to man and beast, alike, a full 70 years ago. Though I was a little tyke when she breathed her last, I still tear up when I think about her.

Pt. 2

Now, you may think my having buried those near and dear to me, be they human or canine, hardly qualifies me as a vocational descendant of my genealogical ancestor. However, you may well be hasty in your judgement.

For you see, in the past couple of years, though I am a long time pastoral counselor "by trade," I have experienced an unexpected opportunity to adopt an unusual advocation.

It is important to understand "right up front" that I possess a deep-seated love for animals of all kinds. (But, you would have already assumed this based on the existence of my pet cemetery).

But speaking of my unexpected opportunity, it began as I was just "minding my own business," and pedaling what I might describe as my "daily 10." As I reached the entrance to a subdivision adjacent to my own, I looked down and saw a very large, very brown, (and very dead) cat. Well, before five seconds elapsed, I made up my mind to finish my 10, retrieve my car, and a shovel, and return to this location. Having done so, I thought of a suitable name (Brownie), dug a hole, said a little prayer (or at least wished him "God Speed"), quoted a scripture, (Psalm 36:6), and consigned him to "Mother Earth." And, you may think it strange, but when I returned home, I created an online memorial page on the largest site of its kind, and which features both humans and animals.

Brownie was the first among many. For he was the first among many cats, and dogs (well, dog, singular) which I ran across during my daily excursion. And I always followed the same schedule of events. Return home. Retrieve my car and a shovel. Give the creature a name. Dig a hole. Say a few words. Cover it up. Return home.

Post-script

Thus far, my ad-lib advocation has allowed me to provide burial services to Brownie the cat, (as in, the color of his fur), Rowdie the Dog, (as in, he just looked like the name I chose), and three additional cats named Spirit, (as in, Spirit Lake Road), Almost, (as in, he almost got across the road), and Oops, (as in, the last word that passed through his little brain, and the only 4 letter word he knew); all which died as the result of vehicles moving faster than they, themselves.

The scripture which I previously alluded to? 

"The Lord preserves both mankind and animals, alike."

I'm convinced believers will see their beloved pets again. I believe I will see Brownie, Rowdie, Spirit, Almost and Oops again. (Perhaps they will thank me for my services).

I think these precious creatures were just plain worth my time and energy. God created them, and afforded them a sense of dignity.

I think my great grandfather would be pleased.

by Bill McDonald, PhD