Monday, September 1, 2014

Tribute for a Dog

Usually I write to make people think about the possibilities of what might happen to our country. Every once in a while however I am reminded of some of the really important things in our lives that we have a tendency to forget. Today was such a day.
This morning when I got up and going, my sister came to me with her phone. On the phone screen was a picture of a dog lying on an American flag. Some of you might say that this was inappropriate, but if you knew the owners and knew the dog you’d understand. Her name was Chiquita, and she was a Chihuahua. Perhaps one of the most beautiful dogs of her breed, and a dog that would protect the people she owned with her life if needs be. She also happened to be the mother of my dog “Buzzy Bear”, so I guess you could say that I knew her almost as well as her people did. When Buzzy was a puppy you could see the love she had for him. Not just the instinctual love that all animals have for their off spring, but a different kind of love. Her people made several attempts to give the puppies away, but for some reason Chiquita would always growl and snap at them as if she knew that they weren’t the people for her puppies. I was one of the fortunate ones when I came over to look at the pups. At the time I had no intention of obtaining a puppy and I guess some how she knew it. But she also knew that I needed one, and she had selected Buzzy for me. We’ve been together ever since.
As dogs go, she was one of a kind. She died at the age of twelve years. Certainly not enough time in this world, but it is old age for small dogs. My Buzzy just turned nine and my wife’s dog Poncho, also Chiquita’s son, just turned ten. My wife is now worried that Poncho will dies at twelve and I have to admit that I’m a little worried also. It’s odd how attached we become to them. How important they become to us in our lives. Buzzy was her gift to me. Somehow she knew that I would need him, and I did.
Over the years he became a sounding board when I was alone. When things were really bad he would force me to play with him until I laughed. Late at night he would cuddle with me and give me licks to let me know that he cared. Somehow Chiquita knew that I would need him and that he would need me.
Chiquita, may you run in fields of tall grass chasing bunnies and butterflies. May you drink from brooks of clean clear water, and may you cuddle in the lap of the lord when you are tired, and feel his love as you were love here on earth. You will be missed and we love you.