Mr. Rags


Mr. Rags (sitting up) with Josie

This morning I received a message from a friend:

Dear Friends -

It is my sad duty to inform you that Mr. Rags died during the night from complications of congestive heart failure. We think he was about 17. He was not alone when he died, nor was he in pain; he went the way we had hoped he would. The best memorial gesture one could make is to do something to help an abandoned pet, for that is what Rags was when he came to me 14 years ago. I will miss him terribly, but I know that his sufferings are over and he is at rest.

Thank you for your concern for him over the years.

John

Our pets understand us in ways our human friends do not. We share our deepest concerns and feelings with them, and in turn they give us unconditional love, share their joy in living, and stay loyally at our side through thick and thin.

Ironically, last night in the barn my horse Heidi's winter coat was slicked down from the rain (she loves to be outdoors no matter what the weather), and I noticed how thin she is despite recent generous feedings of grain. Her personality has changed ever so slightly as well, and those observations led my mind to the day many years ago when I first saw her standing proud and beautiful across an open pasture. I knew I was hooked, knew she was going to be part of my life. And I knew that day and that image was the high point: there would someday come the other day, the day when I'd have to say goodbye, very probably a day when I would have to say to a person with a gun or a needle, "Yes. Do it." Anyone who has loved a pet knows what a difficult and painful decision that can be, and I returned to the house somewhat heavy-hearted.

A dog's emotions are so freely expressed, so honest, so transparent. Perhaps that's why I can be sad but rational at funerals or upon the death of a human family member but cry uncontrollably over the death of a dog. Or perhaps that dog's last loving purpose is to allow us to release - as they do - our innermost feelings, to cleanse our hearts of sorrow stored in them.

Mr. Rags was blessed. He lived to a ripe old age with his people, knowing love, kindness and comfort. He asked for little more than company and kibble, and he gave his heart and soul in the way that only a dog does.

"Good dog, Rags."

"Sit. Stay. Stay here in my heart for the rest of my life."

My deepest sympathy to John and Joan.

Now go to: Musical Tribute to Rags