Thinking

This is the beginning of a reflective, even somewhat sad, period. Those of you that know me, know that I tend to wear my heart on my sleeve and feel things deeply. The time from Thanksgiving to Christmas has always been an emotional time for me. Family is important to me, and family is what that time of year is all about.

Fourteen years ago today, my mother died from Alzheimer’s Disease. Thirty three days later, my father joined her. Thanksgiving and Christmas that year were tough. My emotions were right on the edge most of that time. Even though it has been fourteen years, there is still emotion. There is still a sadness, although the good memories are mixed in, in a greater proportion. In October, 2009, Jan’s mom passed away. That added another layer to the grieving and healing process. Jan’s dad left this life in May, 2016, so none of them are around to share in the family celebrations. They say that time heals all wounds. I’m not totally sure that is true. I think time can bring healing, but the wounds are never completely gone. I do believe that our pain and sorrow can be transformed, and we can be better for them.

The sad time, if you want to call it that, begins a little earlier now. Last week, our dog Charlie died. He had been a faithful companion to our family for the past thirteen years. While losing a pet obviously is not the same as losing a person, there is still a hole left behind. All of those things added together leads to good memories mixed with regret, to happiness mixed with sadness. Something will happen, or someone will say something, and emotions will be triggered. Certain dates become more important than others.

I am thankful that my heavenly Father knows all things, and is gracious and loving. I am thankful for the knowledge that our parents are resting with him and are not suffering. I am grateful for the good memories we have, and for what we can learn from the not so good ones. I can look back and see how things in my past have, in some way, shaped who I am today. As I go into this season, I can look back and see how God is truly working all things for my good and for his glory. I am grateful for that.

Remembering a Dog

When we brought him home from the shelter, he was a 2 month old puppy named Chester. We immediately changed the name to Charles Chaplain because he was black with white markings and reminded us of the Little Tramp. We shortened it to Charlie. Charlie was a cute little puppy, with ears that went up and out, looking like the Flying Nun. He was quite a handful at first, very active and curious. He used to follow us down the hall, nipping at our heels, and it was a job to keep him from digging under the fence to attempt to escape. When he did get out, it was play time for him. Eventually we would get him back in the yard, although there was one time when we thought he was gone and wouldn’t come back.

We finally took Charlie to a place to get him, and us, some training. Charlie picked up on things very quickly because he was a very intelligent dog. The trainer said she thought he was part border collie, because of his looks and intelligence. That explained the herding behavior and his constant need to be outside running around. We never had to take him anywhere for exercise, because our back yard is large and fenced. He was able to run to his heart’s content. Because we live on a corner at the beginning of our neighborhood, everyone got to know Charlie.

As we were in the process of becoming empty nesters, Charlie was a wonderful companion. He always greeted us at the door with his whole back end wagging. In the mornings we would go out together and get the newspaper. I would ask Charlie if he wanted to go get the paper and you could see the absolute joy course through his entire body. He was already to play and never seemed to tire. We enjoyed watching him chase squirrels in our back yard. After a while he simply chased them to the tree and let them run away, and then seemed to grow bored with even that because it was too easy.

During Charlie’s life, no one ever came to see us. They all came over to visit Charlie. At least that’s what he thought. Everyone who came to visit was an instant friend, and he greeted them with total affection. The only person he didn’t seem to like was the poor man who came to read the electric meter every month. For some reason Charlie thought he was a threat to our house.

For the past few months, as Charlie aged, he slowed down a fair amount. When he did go out and run, he was just as fast as ever. He had a new friend who used to run up and down the side fence with him and Charlie had no problem keeping up with him. In between running, he began to sleep a lot. He developed arthritis in his joints, and it got hard for him to get up and down. It seemed like all of a sudden, Charlie had become an old dog. He still liked to run and play at times, but those times were shorter and fewer.

Last Friday, Charlie stopped eating. We had been given some medicine for his arthritis, and we don’t know if that suppressed his appetite or not. He continued drinking water, so we thought if we stopped the medicine that would help. On Tuesday, Jan called the vet and told him what was going on. He was going to prescribe another pain medicine for Charlie. During those last few days. he threw up a few times and had very little interest in any activity. Tuesday afternoon, Charlie’s buddy came by and they ran up and down the fence a couple of times. Charlie didn’t run far and was limping. The other dog’s owner said that Charlie’s bark sounded weak.

That evening, we went to bed. Charlie was in the front hall, where he had been for a few hours. In the middle of the night I heard him throwing up in the bedroom next to ours. I cleaned up after him, told him I loved him and went back to bed. A couple hours later, Jan got up and cleaned up after him again. When I got up at 6:15, I went into the room and saw that Charlie had left us, not long before. We buried him in the back yard later that morning, and said our goodbyes. A life full of happily running and playing was over. He was no longer in pain, now it was our turn to hurt. While we are glad that Charlie is no longer suffering, there is a hole in our hearts. There will be no more walks to get the paper, no more greetings at the front door. I walk out of our bedroom in the morning and look to see where Charlie spent the night. Then I realize he is no longer there.

I don’t know if dogs go to heaven. I do believe that there will be animals in the new creation. Perhaps God will create a Charlie. Then again, maybe not. I do know that I am grateful for the thirteen years we had with a canine companion who brought a great deal of joy into our lives. We loved Charlie and we will miss him. I don’t think we could have asked for a better pet, and I know he can never be replaced.