I am setting down this month to write my column and my heart is both joyful and heavy. Joyful because God has given me so many gifts in my life and I cannot thank Him enough. Heavy because sometimes one doesn’t realize the gift that you had until it’s gone.
I lost a friend this week, a friend that was closer to me than I ever realized. He always wanted to go four wheeling with me, hunting with me and always greeted me with love and affection. He was a terrible hunter though and was too big to ride double with me on the ATV, so he’d just follow along, the same as he would when I took the horse out for a ride.
He was as good a friend as you could ever want, but most times I just took him for granted, even fussing at him for being in the way. Whenever friends or family came over, there he was, in the middle of everyone and everything, playing with the kids or trying to be the center of attention.
We were friends, buddies and pals for almost twelve years, but he seldom was in my house. He preferred to be outside, no matter the weather and I worried about him many a winter night, although he did have a house of his own and would go into if he was cold enough.
He thought the world of my wife Lisa also, greeting her at her car door whenever she came home from work, and sit with her on the porch, both watching me do yard work from the shade.
Every Christmas there is an ornament on the tree with his name, and on Mother’s Day he would give Lisa a card, even though she insisted she was not his mother!
My friend was my black Labrador retriever. He was given to me by my sister when he had just been weaned. At the time I fussed, not knowing what to do with him because I didn’t want a dog at the time. Lisa and I had just gotten married and still lived in a garage apartment in West Point and had just bought the property here in Dyer, or shall I say a cow pasture. I had enough on my plate, building a home here without a puppy that wasn’t even house broke!
But because we couldn’t talk my sister out of giving him to us (but look how cute he is!), we kept him. So, if he was going to stay with me, he had to have a good name. Being a western history buff, I officially named him General George Armstrong Custer! But we called him “Custer” for short. It seemed strange coincidence when we found out our mailing address wasn’t Dyer, but Custer, Kentucky. Maybe God knew something I didn’t.
As dogs and humans do, he became old and developed emphysema and arthritis. He slowed in body, but not in spirit, always wanting to go to the woods with me, but now I was waiting for him to catch up. Lisa started affectionately calling him “Old Man”, and I did too. I also started getting her ready for the possibility his time was coming to leave us. Unbeknown to me, I hadn’t prepared myself.
On Monday morning he wasn’t around. I went looking for him and found him in an adjoining field, unable to get his back legs under him. He looked like he’d had a stroke. I had to pick his eighty plus pound body up and carry him home. It was the hardest and last ride we took together. If you’ve ever seen “Old Yeller”, you know what had to be done. I have never had such a hard thing to do, nor do I ever want to again, but I couldn’t bear to see him in such pain.
I know God has a lesson in every heartache we experience in life. Just recently by life was torn with the near loss of my wife. It seems to me the lessons are to treasure all those gifts God gives, no matter how great or small they seem. Someday that gift may be gone before we realize what a true gift it was.
My friend is buried in our back yard now; he was and will always be part of this property and our home. My sister and God gave me a great friend and Christmas gift for twelve years and I thank her and give God all the praise and glory for my time with my dog and buddy.
So long old pal you’ll be missed this Christmas, but I know God put you here for the lesson you taught me, unconditional love.
Merry Christmas to all my Christian Brothers and Sisters and may you enjoy your gifts great and small this season!
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