One of the most difficult parts of an overseas assignment is that you are not at home for key life events. We recently lost a good companion. We knew that old age had taken its toll and that this was a strong probability, but that didn’t make the “hurt” any less. Here is our brief remembrance.
We were not certain about it that day. It had been almost three years since Chestnut had passed. Chessie’s paw print is still pressed into the concrete patio out back.
Why do we grieve so for our four-legged friends? But it had been three years, and we thought we were ready, that we were in a good place where we could think about a “new dog”.
The two-hour drive to Gettysburg, PA went quickly. The family we met had been breeding Lab’s for several years and it was a side business for two school teachers with five or six kids. “Shopping” for a pet is ALWAYS a big mistake, because once you see those precious dark eyes you are done for. It was the same this visit, we were done!
Now it was just a question of which adorable puppy to pick out. My brother, also a dog lover, had given us some advice to discover the temperament of a young dog. One was to just call out to the pack and see which ones responded first. Another technique was to gently squeeze the puppies paw harder and a little harder, to see their “pull back” response. At any rate we were down to a choice of two pups, a coin toss.
We asked the young couple if we purchased the puppy that day could they keep the puppy for us for several weeks because we were scheduled to leave on our first African missions’ trip in about two weeks. They were agreeable and it was a done deal.
The next thirteen years have been filled with unspeakable joy, frustration, outright belly laughter, and frightening times when Malachi was sick or lost.
It’s impossible to describe to others who have never had a “dog connection”, but somehow these faithful friends worm their way into your heart with that unconditional love that makes every bad day a good day. It’s impossible to stay angry with them for very long, regardless of the infraction (i.e., destroying furniture or shoes, poop in the bedroom corner, or chasing the grandkids around the house).
So, this Ode to Malachi, is simple, I’m going to miss you buddy. You were there during my high highs, and some troubling low lows. Your love and compassion for me, when it was I who was supposed to be in charge, is unforgettable. Those big brown eyes somehow communicated that you got me, you understood in some cosmic way where I was at, at any given time.
I’m missing you already but comforted knowing your pain is gone. We often have this conversation, “will we have our dogs in Heaven”? I’m not a theologian. Somehow, I feel that God in His love and desire for my good will not withhold one of life’s greatest joys, the joy that Malachi brought me for the last thirteen years.
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