All creatures great and small

Oct. 25, 2001

Dear Pat,

A van pulled up next to the park beside our house Sunday, deposited a tiny beagle and drove away. If you're going to abandon someone, perhaps grass softens the act. But I'm starting to wonder if word has gotten out that a woman who lives nearby escorts turtles across the road and brakes for butterflies.

An ecosystem of God's creatures probably owe their lives to DC.

Our dog Hank arrived the same way the beagle did, whimpering in the park. But he was just scared. This little guy could barely rise from his haunches, sometimes had trouble catching his breath and his chest looked swollen. But his face belongs in a Norman Rockwell painting.

I immediately started lining up prospective homes while DC made sure he felt at home. A co-worker looking for a birthday present for his son suddenly realized a dog would be better than a GameBoy. A neighbor suggested calling our new guest Bagel the beagle. We were planning his future.

DC's mother started calling him LB for "Little Bit," and her father took him for a veterinarian's examination. Later, DC called me from home in tears.

The dog has a bad case of heart worms. Dogs in his condition often are put down, the vet said. He can be treated, but the chances of him making it aren't good. He probably will die of congestive heart failure.

The treatment itself could kill him. When the worms die they sometimes form a ball that can cause an embolism.

But the vet also has a friend whose dog had heart worms and survived.

All in all in this season of fear, the arrival of LB seems like a good time to have a bit of hope and faith.

We did worry whether he could transmit the heart worms to Hank and Lucy, but the vet said they're safe because they regularly take preventative pills. We also were concerned about how Hank and Lucy would react to a new dog in their territory. Hank is known for anti-social behavior around people and groundhogs, but he has never fought another dog. Around puppies he's downright solicitous.

Now the three of them are eating and taking walks together.

DC and I both come from families who love dogs. Her family had one named WC after the comedian. WC was part silver poodle and part sheep dog and liked to roam. The college students at the nearby women's dorm used to give him baths and pork chops. The day WC roamed into a college football game at Houck Stadium, the referees had to call time-out and chase him off the field. DC's brother, Paul, was in the marching band, but didn't help.

Truly, canine friends named Butch and Alfie were as loved in own childhood as human friends named Brad and Beth and Steve.

LB may not be with us long, but everyone on earth recently has been reminded how impermanent life is.

We're always thinking about the meaning of life, but we should be thinking about the meaning of death as well. If we did, we would live each day so much more completely, be alive in each moment the way a dog is.

I think LB found us more than we found him. He has given us the opportunity to understand a crucial Bible teaching.

"For I was hungry and ye gave me meat: I was thirsty, and ye gave me drink: I was a stranger, and ye took me in," the Son of man said.

And when the righteous asked when they saw him hungry and thirsty and a stranger and took him in, he said, "Inasmuch as ye have done it unto one of the least of these my brethren, ye have done it unto me."

Love, Sam

Sam Blackwell is a staff writer for the Southeast Missourian.