Around this time of year, my DVD collection receives special attention from me, particularly my Christmas Hallmark collection. I watched “A Dog Named Christmas,” and it brought back memories of my pets: Snuffy, Hector, Michael, Sammy, Sandy, and Jackie. It is said that you can tell what kind of a person you are by how you treat your pets. My pets have always been a special part of my family, and hopefully, I have loved them as I would want to be loved.
Hector was our family’s Eskimo Huskie. He was born in our basement in East Berlin with two other siblings. When our three troopers were big enough and their momma was willing to send them out into the world, Charlie, the oldest one, was given to a farmer down the road to help him with his herds. The middle puppy, a female by the name of Cindy, was given as a comfort for a little girl who witnessed the death of her sister by a drunken driver. Although Cindy was a much needed comfort for the little girl, Cindy missed her momma. We gave Cindy’s momma, Snuffy, to this family so that there was comfort for all concerned.
We loved and cherished Hector for fifteen years until my dad accidentally left the screen door open, and Hector walked off the property. The vet told us that dogs know when it is their time, and rather than make their family upset, they just go off to the Rainbow in the sky. The whole family mourned Hector’s loss, particularly my dad who was left in a big house. When my dad called me at college, his tears seemed to drip from the phone; I spent the next days during finals by binge- eating Hector’s favorite treat, Nabisco peanut butter cheese crackers. The house was so quiet when I came home for Christmas break that I wondered whether we would ever feel whole again. My dad never had another dog to keep him company.
It was years before I had another pet, but when I moved to Wisconsin, one of my step daughters gave me a house-warming present of a kitten who I named Michael. A farmer found him gently nudging his momma who had been killed along the road. The farmer’s wife bottle-fed tiny Michael, and my step daughter gave him to me. It didn’t take long for Michael to grow into a cat who barely meowed and had sky blue eyes. We cuddled a lot, and he followed me around the house, playing games with his toys and my fingers.
Michael was with me seventeen years before he started having stomach pains and balancing problems. One of the hardest things I’ve ever had to do was put Mikie down. With a friend, Vicky, by my side, I tried to hold onto Mikie for a little longer, but I have come to realize that you cannot hold unto a loved one whom God is calling home. We tried medications, diets, and different exercises, but nothing seemed to work. Mikie never regained his weight after his stomach operation. As painful as it was, I held Mikie as he passed from the vet’s needle. I know as he walked through the Rainbow’s gate, he was greeted with love by all of God’s creatures.
I believe his friend, our Sammy, a golden lab, was waiting for him so they could rump together through God’s home. Sammy came to live with Mikie and I two years after I moved to Shawano. He was my third husband’s two-year-old bundle of energy; Mikie and he became best friends, thanks to my husband’s dog whisperer skills. The two friends knew each other’s boundaries, but at night, you would find them sleeping side by side. Just before my husband passed away, he told Sammy to take care of me, and he did just that for eight years. He was my guard dog; he wouldn’t let anyone approach the house without first inspecting them. It was so hard to say “good-bye” to him because it was like saying “good-bye” to my husband all over again. Because Sammy was diagnosed with a brain tumor, he could no longer walk. My neighbors helped put him in my car, and a friend, Julie, went with me to the vet. I prayed for Sammy as the life-light was leaving him. He looked up to me for the last time, wagged his tail numbly, and slowly closed his eyes. As he walked over the Rainbow bridge, I know Mikie and all of his siblings were happy to be together once more.
As for my new pets, Sandy and Jackie, they have brought tremendous energy and love back into my home. A home gets to be very lonely without God’s creatures running around. You know that all your pets want is love; in return, they fill you up with all the love you could ever want. Sandy and Jackie have become the children I never had. They can be spontaneous balls of fire one moment and calming, loving weights pushing at my back when I’m sleeping in another moment. I could not ask for any more loving pets because there is no end to the adventures we will have together. Sandy is a music lover and lays under the grand piano when I’m practicing. Jackie has her own sense of pride as a calico cat and loves to be the first one on my bed at night to get the best place beside momma. Together, they make my life joyous, and I never know what to expect. I have a soft spot for my pets. They seem to know when I need them the most. At the sound of tears, they come running; at the sound of joy, they share in prancing around like comedians. The times we have shared have healed my heart many times over.
So, do I treat my pets like princes and princesses? Yes! I thank God for His blessing of their love. I hope their lives are as wonderful as mine has been around them. To all my special loved ones, “Thank you, dear ones!”
Anna Hartt
