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A DOG BISCUIT, A LOST DOG AND A FUNERAL
By CarolynCHolland(9,534)
What do a dog biscuit, a lost dog and a funeral visitation have in common?
The funeral visitation was for a friend from church, Henry. My husband, Monte, and I wanted to give his wife, Margaret, our condolences.
As we left the house I did my usual “Wait, I’ve forgotten something.” I returned to the kitchen and pulled a large dog biscuit from the jar on the counter and stuck it in my coat pocket.
A the funeral home we greeted Margaret. As I gave her the normal hug I held on tighter and longer than usual, enabling me to whisper in her ear.
“I have something for Henry,” I said softly, not sure how she would take my “bizarre” token to him.
“I know what it is,” she responded, smiling. Then, without giving me a chance to comment she continued: “Place it among his military medals. Henry will love it.”
And so, I carefully placed the dog biscuit where she said. Visitors from that point on wondered about it, but few got an explanation.
The next day, as I left the house to attend Henry’s funeral (Monte had left earlier, since, as a pastor, he was doing the funeral service), I paused to greet my neighbor Mariah. She was agitated, and asked me if I knew her dog Pansy had been lost for three days.
I hadn’t. I felt like she needed an ear to listen to her story, and a set of feet to help hunt for the small dog. I became conflicted, knowing a neighbor needed help at the time I needed to be elsewhere to say goodbye to a friend and to comfort his wife.
I quickly explained the situation to Mariah and told her I would talk to her later. Then I drove off to the funeral home.
While driving, I realized Henry, of all people, would understand the circumstances almost made me tardy to the service. After all, he had a heart for dogs.
He also had a sense of humor, one that often both frustrated and amused Margaret.
His humor surfaced in a Sunday morning tradition he initiated, a tradition that occurred either before or during the church service.
Henry knew I packed dog biscuits to subdue overly aggressive dogs I met while walking around our community. To “retaliate” and to build up my supplies he began bringing me a dog biscuit each week.
The catch? I had to bark to get it!
Margaret always shook her head and admonished us but we overrode her objections, continuing our routine.
Hearing about Pansy enroute to Henry’s funeral was fitting. If the situation were reversed, he too would have paused to listen.
Mike told me she was responsible for Pansy’s “escape,” since she’d walked him near her house, unleashed, in the evening dusk. When another dog spooked Pansy, she took off.
For two nights friends and family searched unsuccessfully for Pansy. The third night a “lost dog” newspaper ad was published, bringing what Mariah reasoned were three unlikely responses because each situation required her car-phobic dog to cross major roads in business areas. Besides, they all were described as having perky ears, not the floppy ones that Pansy displayed proudly.
Then Debbie called. A dog was hanging out near the train station. She and her husband gave it a plate of spaghetti and watched the dog eat it. Recognizing it was someone’s pet that was probably lost, they checked the newspaper and saw Mariah’s ad.
Yes, the dog had floppy ears and fit Pansy’s description, Debbie said.
Mariah arrived at the train station and pointed the car’s headlights towards where Debbie said the dog was hiding.
“I called and her head popped up like a prairie dog,” Mariah said. “She was in the weeds and smelled like spaghetti and meatballs.”
Mariah took Pansy home, calmed her with a bath, and prepared the dog’s favorite foods: peanut butter toast, tuna fish and green beans. Pansy fell asleep after her meal.
According to Mariah, Pansy’s safe return qualifies as a miracle. The dog is not used to traffic-laden streets and isn’t accustomed to being exposed to 16-degree temperatures,
Mariah told Pansy “there’ve been angels all around. Everyone has been praying for you.”
Both Pansy and Henry made it home, where can enjoy their dog biscuits in safety and peace. Henry himself is probably looking down with a smile on his face, prepared to hand both Pansy and me a treat---but only if we bark.
He would agree that a dog biscuit, a lost dog and a funeral visitation had a thread that tied them together. ---written by Carolyn Check this INDEX category ANIMALS/PETS and the Beanery Online Literary Magazine--- www.ProBlogs.com/beanerywriters --- category INDEX Cats and Dogs to read more animal stories. | |
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Posted to ProBlogs.com on Monday, January 01, 2007
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