THE GIFT OF UNCONDITIONAL LOVE I don’t normally write stories as morbid as this, but an old neighborhood and high school friend of mine, Sally Herman, lost her best friend this week, a beautiful Service dog that had been her companion and strong right arm for quite a while. He was her baby and he was her friend. They shared a bond of love that only other dog lovers can understand—I understand! I know a lot of you do too. Some of you might be saying or asking, who is Sally Herman…I don’t think I know her? Maybe you don’t, but she was Sally Aubuchon, daughter of Ruth Aubuchon a well-known and much beloved music teacher in Festus for years and years. Her sister is Patti Aubuchon Green, both girls majored in some form of music, I know, hard to imagine isn’t it? [As if their DNA would let them be anything else!] also, both girls are dog lovers…but, then, who in their right mind isnt? I don’t like death. When a loved one lays suffering, and in pain for a prolonged period of time, and then finally dies, we say that death was a blessing. But we are lying to ourselves, because we don’t really mean that. What we wanted was a relief from the pain and agony they were going through, and our own agony and grief from watching them suffer, but we certainly didn’t want them to die—because we loved them, and will miss them terribly. Maybe it’s just me, but I think some deaths are more hurtful than others. I don’t think any parent should ever have to live long enough to see a child of theirs or their grand children die. I can’t even imagine the pain of that reality. Sadly, some of my friends have experienced it; I have no idea the depth of pain and despair that must have been theirs—I grieve for them. There used to be a popular song on radio, and old 78 rpm records, by Ella Fitzgerald and The Count Basie Orchestra—Into Each Life a Little Rain Must Fall. I liked The Ink Spots version of it better. I don’t think any of us mind a little rain now and then…it’s the storms in our heart that turn the rain to tears that brings us to our knees, and death always does that to me. My first remembered death was that of my beloved dog, Jinx. Jinx was a registered Llewelyn Setter [similar to an English setter] who’s proper name was Zev’s Peerless Pride…I loved that dog as only a child can love a dog. As he got older he liked to lay on the hot concrete out in the middle of North Mill Street, between our house at 119 NM and the Charlie Mullersman Studebaker Dealership directly across the street where Comtrea is today. It was 1951, and I was about to turn 10 when a car ran over him and broke his back. As I said, he was older and hard of hearing. People might think that that was foolish, allowing a dog to sleep in the street… perhaps it was. But in 1951 you would be hard pressed to see 5 or 10 cars drive down on Mill Street in 2 or 3 hours…there were not that many cars back then and most were at work with the man of the house, which meant most were parked at PPG! Besides, people drove slowly and swerved around poor old Jinx. The worst part of that incident though was he was still alive and suffering greatly. My Dad was at work so my mom called my Uncle, Glenn Davis. When he got there I was cradling Jinx’s head in my lap, and sobbing like only a child can sob, telling him how much I loved him. My Uncle said: “Stanley Poole, you know what I have to do?” “Yes Sir. You have to shoot him and put him out of his misery.” I slowly stood up, being as much of a man as an almost 10 year old possibly could, and said, “I’ll go with you.” My Uncle placed his hands on my two shoulders and looked into my teary eyed face and said, “No, I’ll do this without you. No man should ever have to shoot his own dog, nor should he have to see it done—that’s what friends and family are for Stanley Poole.” I went into my room and cried myself to sleep, never to see Jinx again, except in my dreams. But, I can still feel my uncle’s hands on my shoulders and see his face and hear his voice—63 years later. God should give everyone uncles like mine! Now, in the tag end of my life, I have had more than a little rain to fall from my eyes, as I have lost all grandparents, parents, aunts and uncles—and I have grieved. But being a Christian and a true believer, there is something that sustains me and takes away some of the pain…I know I will see them again. I don’t think that I will see them again and I don’t believe that I will see them again, I KNOW that I will see them again…that is the difference. Death no longer has a defining grip on me and one of the reasons, besides my firm belief in Jesus Christ, is this poem written by Alexander Pope in the 1700”s: Vital spark of heavenly flame! Quit, O quit this mortal frame: Trembling, hoping, ling ’ring, flying, O the pain, the bliss of dying! Cease, fond Nature, cease thy strife, And let me languish into life. Hark! They whisper; angels say, Sister Spirit, come away! What is this absorbs me quite? Steals my senses, shuts my sight, Drowns my spirits, draws my breath? Tell me, my soul, can this be death? The world recedes; it disappears! Heav’n opens on my eyes! My ears with sounds seraphic ring! Lend, lend your wings! I mount! I fly! O Grave! Where is thy victory? O Death! Where is thy sting? Right outside of Atlanta, Georgia, is a world famous gorilla named Koko. Koko is famous for being able to speak in Ameri-sign or American Sign Language. She has asked for a kitten to play with and she has told her human friends she has a tooth-ache and then pointed to the tooth that hurt. The most startling thing is, however, she has asked her human friends, “Where do I go when I die?” Doesnt that sort of imply that maybe she has a soul? I think so! In the bible it says that God knows the number of hairs on your head. He knows, it says, of every Sparrow that falls. If he knows the numbers of hair on my head and if he cares and knows every Sparrow and a Gorilla can ask, “What happens to me when I die?” Why are we so arrogant as to think that only humans are in heaven? If anything deserves Heaven more than a human—it has to be a dog, for who has the more nobler soul? The bible teaches that God is love: 1 John 4:16 And so we know and rely on the love God has for us. God is love. Whoever lives in love lives in God, and God in them. Does anyone reading this know of any other animal that can give you unconditional love, outside of a dog? Dog’s always love unconditionally, even when we don’t deserve it—just like God does! Do you think it is coincidental that God spelled backward is Dog and both give you unconditional love? I suppose it is, but Id like to think that it isnt. My friends, I am here to tell you that all dogs go to heaven! They are there patiently waiting for your arrival.
Posted on: Tue, 27 Jan 2015 01:43:14 +0000
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