In Memoriam

About a month ago our dog, a pug named "Buster", walked through a hole in our backyard fence and disappeared.  We have not seen him since.  Naturally, we are saddened by the loss. Buster has been with us for more than a decade.  We suspect the dog was eaten by coyotes, as there are many that roam the creek area adjacent to our house. 

Buster was a funny dog.  And he was quite a sport.  Logan and his friends tossed him around like a bag of fertilizer on many occasions and there were numerous times he was duct-taped to the wall for photo sessions.  All in good fun, of course.  In fact, he seemed to enjoy the attention.

Buster was a slug.  Pugs, of course, came from imperial China, and were bred to sit by the thrones of the Emperors.  Buster did his part.  He rarely left the couch.  He rarely barked.  He could not hurt a flea.  He loved everyone.

As I reflect on his ultimate demise, being eaten for dessert . . . it's not at all unnatural.  We've just grown accustomed to putting our animals down by injection, or handing them over the vet to spend their final hours in a sterile room.  We must not forget that dogs, despite their breeding and domesticated role, were originally wild things . . . living off the land, living in packs, part of an underground society that we now only see among wolves and coyotes, their ancestral cousins.

Buster was getting old.  He was arthritic.  Gray.  Sort of like me.  Among all the ways a dog could go, being eaten by coyotes might not be such a bad death.  Still, we do miss him.  We are still looking for his DUKE collar in the woods.  I doubt we will find it. 

Perhaps, here on the cusp of Good Friday and the remembrance of Christ's sacrifice and offering of his life, it is important for our family to count our blessings and remember those who have gone before us . . . and, if there is a redemption for creation (as I believe there is) we might even see this little pug some future day in the coming Kingdom.  Though, I hope, without the teeth marks.