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Blogs by Robert Egby
THE OLD DOG 9/6/2010 2:58:26 PM
How I met an old dog one morning and shared some thoughts about the Afterlife. A big, old dog, tawny and spotted with grey, wandered slowly, probably painfully across my path this morning as I walked through the early morning mists, carrying my old arbutus cane.
He came from among the white blossoming lilac bushes in his yard, and ambled across the road. He paused to gaze at my approaching figure. His mouth opened and his long tongue flopped out. His teeth had long gone and his dreams of gnawing on a good bone had long gone too.
I stopped and watched and I sensed he would have stayed to watch me, but something, perhaps long learned wisdom, urged him to move off the road. His old legs carried him into the newly mown meadow where he eased himself down on the dew-laiden grass, ever so slowly to allow his joints to adjust.
You could feel his body attuning to the peaceful, healing energy of Mother Earth. Whatever was hurting, probably the arthritis, had now abated. The magnificent head raised itself and his nose seemed to delight in the delicate but powerful scents of the nearby honeysuckle now in full bloom.
From across the meadow I spotted several dogs running across the damp grass. They paused suddenly to wait for a young woman accompanied by a little boy. They gathered happily around the old dog who was still savoring the honeysuckle.
My mind sent a message to the old dog. “Your spirit friends are here. They call you Bandit. They say it’s your birthday. You are twenty years old today.”
The old dog stared back at me. “We are not ready to go yet?”
“Who is ‘we’?”
“The old woman. The one I protect. We eat soup together. Her teeth are gone too. When she’s ready, we will walk the Rainbow Bridge together.”
There is an old story which tells of the meadow this side of the Rainbow Bridge where pets play in their spirit forms and wait for their “owners” to come, and they then walk together across the Rainbow Bridge into Heaven.
“You’ve heard of the Rainbow Bridge?”
“The woman reads it to me every night.”
I turned around. Across the road among the white and purple lilacs was an old wooden cottage, desperately in need of a coat of paint and some tender loving care. Beyond, the waters of Chaumont bay shimmered and danced to welcome the summer sun, rising above the mist for another day.
“That’s my home,” said the old dog slowly. “When she’s ready we’ll go looking for the Rainbow Bridge together.”
“Your friends in spirit are all around you.”
“I know. I know. They want me to go, but I ignore them,” said the old dog, his voice tired and dry. “Tell them Bandit says to buzz off.” Then he stared at me in one defiant gesture. “And you buzz off too. I’m resting.”
After a few steps along the road, I stopped and rested on my arbutus cane and looked back at the old dog, resting peacefully, enjoying the aromas of the Earth, but always on guard, totally devoted, totally loving, with a power that overcomes the pains that come with getting old.
I sent him Love, Light and Blessings, and added profound thanks for allowing me to be in his life. As I walked along the road flanked by lilacs and honeysuckle, I wondered why it had occurred.
