That's life ... and beyond

I saw the sun rise this morning.

My dear, 17-year-old shelty, Tweety, did not.

Oh, this year has been a roller-coaster, as I guess all of life is. I spent the past four days at a spiritual retreat, working my buns off, hurting my back something fierce. But when I got home, drained and sure I'm worthless about helping others see Jesus and I'm so woefully short of helping anyone do anything, Tweety was there.

She had been laboring to breathe, and the last thing I told her before I drove away on Wednesday was for her to hold on till I got back.

Last night when I got back, she was there, wheezing and struggling to walk outside but I still had no real idea of what was to come.

I went to the bathroom before going to bed, and as she always did, she followed me in. I petted her, told her I loved her and I thanked her for waiting for me. That was to be the last words I spoke to such a dear old lady.

She was a sheltie, but she was black and white. She put up with Logan, the terrier mix, for more than 10 years. Logan has been looking for Tweety all morning, because other than a trip we took Tweety on two summers ago when we thought she was near the end then, Logan and Tweety have been pretty much inseparable since Logan was born. She put up with Frankie, and Paris, and Sammie and the boys of Shanna and even the little girl of Carrie.

It's just hard to imagine. Carrie was seven when Tweety was born into our family.

When Tweety was born, I was a drunk who didn't know Jesus.

When Tweety was born, all I lived for was my career.

Now, we will enter into a new life. I had prayed hard about rescuing a dauschund from a shelter in Pearl River, Miss., and I believe I will. But not today.

I buried Tweety at our house, our home, next to Buttons, our cat of 17 years. We will never have pets like those two, and they flat out needed to be together. So before the sun came up, I wrapped her gently and took her to her resting place where we'll rejoin her someday. We've rented the place, but the new occupants don't come on until Oct. 1, so it seemed appropriate that she go now.

I don't see where Jesus had a dog or a cat in scripture. We picture him as the good shepherd, but I don't know that he had any pets. If not, I'm sorry because he could have used them to illustrate what can only be called unconditional love.

Tweety loved me. More than Frankie did, she loved me. Me. Me who has few friends and can't seem to get out of his own way and never treated her anywhere near where she should have been, she loved ME.

I must tell you that if there are typos, it's because I'm weeping openly. I won't corredct tem because Tweety deserved ever tear.

I told her as I pushed the dirt onto her body to say hello to Frankie and Scrappy for me, and dear God I pray that she can.And I pray I will be able to one day, also.

Goodbye Tweety.
God speed.

The sun rose today, but Tweety did not.
That's life,
and death.