How fragile is life!
Last night Dusty was fighting for breath in the living room.
Tonight she is under the dirt on the grassy knoll at the back. This has been a
challenging day.
For Don and me, it has been pretty bleak and gruelling. When
you have such a friend as Dusty was, it shreds you up inside to have to make
the decision that she is beyond recovery and time to have the vet’s
intervention. (How anyone could ever do this for a loved human being, I just
don’t know. And yet the watching is horrendous, too.)
The vet intervened, kindly and gently, sensitive to the dog
and also to us as we sobbed away. Within minutes, Dusty’s heaving chest stilled
and she slipped ... where? Into doggy heaven? Into regular heaven? Into
oblivion? I’ve no idea.
So as we showed Dusty our love in such an anguished way,
half a world away my mother would soon awaken to 90th birthday
celebrations enjoyed with her birthday buddy, my son Jamie, his wife and
Mhairi.
Ironic to be celebrating life on a day when we have been
facing death. But as the vet proved, it is a very short step from breathing and
enjoying life, to ceasing from breathing and being dead. A very short step.
The Bible tells us that again and again. This is the day
that the Lord has made. Whatever it holds, let’s rejoice and be glad in it,
because this is the day we have. Or the moment we have. What lies around the
corner, who knows?
God does. ‘For I know the plans I have for you, plans for
good and not for evil, plans to prosper you...’
Whether on earth or in heaven, doggy or human.
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