It was back just before the Christmas of 1997, when my baby girl was 11 years old. She and my wife stopped by the office and saw my older brother Robert's Christmas gift for my father, a little Border Collie puppy about six weeks old. She just squealed and picked her up and hugged her. She looked at me, batted her eyes and said, "Daddy, can I have her?" My brother being the gentleman that he is, from time to time, quite simply said, "Of course, you can have her, Merry Christmas!" He then promptly went out and purchased another gift for our father and never said another word about it. That was the day that little Haley came into our lives.
We have always had at least one dog during our 30 years of marriage, but this one was different. This one was Elizabeth's dog. Haley was (as any owner of a Border Collie can tell you) a dog of exceptional intelligence and intensity. Her breeding was to herd animals for a living, but all her life the only thing she was ever able to herd was our old Shitz Tzu dog that always resented being mistaken for a sheep. I was working long hours during those years, and first saw this dog as just another nuisance, a chore, an expense. My wife, Puddy, who has always been wiser than I, saw things differently. She knew this little dog was something special. She taught her how to sit up, beg, roll over, fetch and to ring a bell when she needed to go outside.
Slowly, this little dog bored a hole right into my heart. When I would come home from a difficult day at work, she seemed to instinctively know and would simply run up to me and look at me with those big loving accepting eyes and want to play for a few minutes to help me unwind. As much as I complained about the dog hair that constantly seemed to be everywhere, I secretly knew that I was unconditionally loved by that little dog, regardless of what happened that day at work. She constantly amazed me with her intelligence. I honestly believed she could read my mind on some days. Puddy would cut her hair short in the spring and summer, and she looked like a big Chihuahua. She would sleep most nights with Elizabeth. Time marched on and Elizabeth went off to college and Haley stayed home. I walked her in the evenings and in the afternoon Puddy would let her into the backyard to chase her arch-nemesis, the Evil Squirrel, out of our backyard.
Our son, Christopher graduated and moved back to town shortly after his sister went off to college. He brought his six-month-old black Lab, Deacon, home with him. We puppy-sat our grand-pup Deacon, and Haley had a new playmate. They would chase each other around and around the couch for what seemed like forever. Haley would even stalk Deacon throughout the house in good natured fun. She even developed a sort of doggie judo, where she would throw Deacon over, even though he out weighed her by double her own weight.
But, then at the tender age of eight years, Haley developed heart problems, and on a sunny day in May, sitting by the window to the back yard, her heart simply gave out. I cried for the little dog that had loved me so much. I was so sad that she left us, but so joyous that God had sent her to us for the short time she was here. There is so much we can learn from the unconditional love of a little dog. I buried her in our back yard that she loved so much. We even held a small funeral service for her in the back yard. Afterwards, I wrote out that simple little prayer and have prayed over other dogs with the same words below:
"Will Rogers once said, 'If there aren't any dogs in heaven, I don't want to go.'
We are here today to lay to rest Haley, our faithful companion for the past eight years.
Anyone who has ever had a dog knows the days pass all too quickly. That even when they are a little puppy that deep down we know this day is coming. It is a bittersweet relationship. One that we know will probably lead to this very day. So, we say 'good-bye' today all too soon.
May you run in the green grass of heaven and never grow tired. May you play again as a puppy. May you sit in the lap of God and rest.
Now, go first and blaze a trail into eternity; go on ahead, we will all be along shortly. AMEN."
Puddy suggested another dog, but we had Deacon much of the time, and I had no real interest in another dog. Deacon was different from Haley. He was able to act excited to see me and then lay down at my feet. Haley was always "on patrol" and would never sit in my lap for more than just a few minutes (we both had type A personalities - and heart trouble as a result). Deacon never let thunder or firecrackers bother him, he even slept through most of the 4th of July. Haley, on the other hand, was terrified of loud noises. Deacon would excitedly wag his big tail starting at his neck whenever I walked in the door after work. Later, while I was home recovering from my heart attack, Deacon would nap right next to me when I napped. He was always right there next to the couch just watching over me with his big snout resting on my stomach.
Recently, my two children, Chris and Elizabeth, moved to Nashville and are sharing a house together. It is hard when both of your children move away, but when they take the dog, too! Well, this year Elizabeth has asked for a dog. We put her off and told her that Deacon was living with them, to which she replied that he is Chris' dog. I then pulled my trump card and told her she was in college and if she made good grades we would talk about it in the fall. I'll be darned if she did not make straight A's for the first time in her life!
Puddy is now trying to find another Border Collie for Elizabeth for this Christmas. I even heard her whisper on the phone to the breeder and ask if he had two puppies! I'll have to act surprised. I may even gripe and complain about another dog - well, just a little - as long as she doesn't take her back.
Don't be afraid that your life will end.
Be afraid that it will never begin.
Larry LaBorde, Silver Trading Company
10 Dec 2007
