As the vet was preparing the injections that would end her life, our dog, Mandy, laid her little head on my hand. With tears flowing, my wife, daughter and I were all gently petting her as she took her last, small breath.
Mandy had fought a cancerous nasal tumor for a year. The veterinarian had told us she might last 6 months if we gave her a high-dose radiation treatment. We refused, and took a natural course that kept her happy and content until the last couple of weeks of her life. Oh, she had some rough spells, but she would always bounce back.
Finally, dental disease we couldn’t treat, combined with the cancer, brought her to a point where she could only eat a little bit at a time. She began to lose weight quickly, but still was our bright, cuddly puppy. It wasn’t until the last few days of her life that she grew despondent. On the last day, her expression took on a distant sadness, and she sought out hidden places to curl up and die. Before we put her in the truck for her final ride, she let us know that she had made her decision about life. How could we not honor that?
Like most dogs, Mandy loved her family. Every time we came home she acted like she hadn’t seen us for months even if we had only been gone an hour or two. If we did something that hurt her, she quickly forgave us like nothing had ever happened. She loved attention and food more than anything in the world. A few pets and a full belly was all it took to make her happy. It makes me want to re-think my desires in life. Maybe I want a bit too much. I’ll admit that I might want more than a tummy rub to experience the richest joys in life but do I really need all the stuff I think I need?
During her illness, Mandy taught us how to face adversity with courage, taking it in stride. Even on her bad days, she would still come up for petting and greet us when we came home. She didn’t stop trying to get the most out of life just because she was going through hard times. Mandy looked for, and discovered, every little positive when almost everything around her was negative.
But the greatest lesson Mandy taught me was a trait she possessed that was rare even for dogs. She loved ALL people. When Mandy was young, we kept one of Lindsey’s little friends with us for a weekend. I have to confess that the child was incorrigible the whole weekend. At one point, I heard Mandy squealing in pain and ran in the next room to find Lindsey’s friend pulling as hard as she could on her ears. I know a lot of dogs would have would have tried to bite or attack to protect themselves. But not Mandy. She never made any attempt to hurt that child.
God loves all people, regardless of how they look or smell, whether they’re nice or nasty, rich or poor, liberal or conservative (although some of you may disagree with that last one). My little Mandy demonstrated that kind of love more than any earthly creature I have ever seen. She never judged anybody and would show love to everybody. That didn’t make her much of a guard dog, but it sure endeared her to a lot of people.
So as I take these sentimental moments to reflect on the life of my little dog, my prayer is that I can learn to love all people half as much as she did.
God’s grace to you,
Steve Jennings, Executive Director