I knew Todd-Paul Taulbee long before he got his highfalutin' degree from Duke Divinity and became an ordained Elder. So, in my life, he's a friend first, and his role as pastor to other people falls in down the line somewhere. But some words in one of his e-mails from a couple of months ago couldn't have been more pastoral:
"I continue to maintain the serious theological view that dogs give the closest thing to God's unconditional grace that we will receive this side of the veil. Those of us who properly love our dogs in return hurt ever so badly when they hurt. Saying goodbye to them is ridiculously difficult."
Today I'm working from home. My girl Cub is on the floor next to me, snoozing off the pharmaceutical effects of her stay at the emergency vet last night. She had the worst cluster of seizures my husband and I have witnessed in our 6 years of managing her epilepsy.
John and I choose to view our dogs as on loan from God. When God demands God's dog back, we must surrender. Cub is my first dog, so I haven't had to say goodbye to one of my own yet. I know the day will come, and it may be soon. She's been dealing with multiple maladies for years now.
Google my name, and you'll quickly find my blogging alter-ego. It all started as a creative writing exercise, but then I found myself drawn to this thing called the Methoblogosphere and found the courage to drop my anonymity. In direct and indirect ways, Cub has opened my life up to new possibilities, new friendships, a deeper connection to Creation and the Creator.
Todd-Paul was a dog person long before I became one. He's been through the pain. But he also sees the gift of God's unconditional grace in puppy dogs' eyes. That grace, no matter its vessel, is worth knowing.
Our vessels of choice just happened to be covered in fur, prone to licking, and partial to belly-rubs.
I'm so sorry it's such a wrenchingly painful time for you and the Cub-ster.
I agree that dogs ARE the closest thing to God's unconditional grace we'll experience. Ignore or neglect them for awhile, and they never pout. Instead, they come bounding back for another try. They're always happy, happy, happy to see us. What could we ever do to deserve that? They are SO ready to love on us. One look at them and they're all over you.
They always initiate the love, they're always available (just waiting on us it seems), and they always give a whole lot more than they get back.
There's surely a reason why God spelled backwards is D-O-G.
Posted by: Robin Russell | March 14, 2008 at 12:00 PM
Amy, I'm with you, all the way. Molly had a good day today, and I hope Cub did, too.
Posted by: Songbird | March 14, 2008 at 04:57 PM
Totally with you. My Great Dane Henley is lying next to me as I type this, but our beloved mini schnauzer Ellie passed away Sunday night. I buried her next to our sanctuary at New Hope.
They give, give, and give some more. And then they leave a huge hole.
Dogs rule.
Posted by: David Wilson | March 19, 2008 at 09:02 PM