The man and his wife of many years sat at the kitchen table, coffee mugs
in hand, the morning paper spread open before them. "Any for sale?" she asked.
Every morning, it was like this now.
"I don't know," he said, adjusting his glasses as she reached for a jar,
scraped it clean and spread honey on buttered toast. No need to break off a
piece and toss it to an eager friend now; honey wasn't on the shopping list any
more.
As he searched, the man remembered the bundle of fluff they had brought
home that night so long ago. How she snuggled close to him, against the autumn
chill, shivering ... how his wife's eyes had lit up. "For me?" she asked.
"For us," he said. "To keep us company." It was a gesture of love between
two people who had quietly accepted their childless life. Anything to break
the growing silence of their home would be welcome.
"Are there any for sale?" the woman asked again.
Taking a pen from his shirt pocket, he carefully circled a classified ad.
"I think we're in luck," he smiled.
"We won't be able to replace her," he reminded his wife in the car that
night, as dogs announced their arrival at the small, well-kept farm.
"I know," she said sadly. "I wouldn't want to. Not really." But, her
heart spoke louder than her words.
"You can't fool me," he said, resting his hand on hers. "Let's just see
what he has, OK? We don't have to make up our minds right away."
They were greeted by a friendly man in boots and an old coat. "Are you
here to see the puppies?"
"Yes," they said, following him into the warm barn.
"It's a little nippy tonight, so I moved their box in here," he said,
inviting them into a roomy horse stall to see seven puppies glowing under a heat
lamp.
"Oh, look!" the woman sighed. At the sound of her voice, puppies began
waking from their sleep. Who was that?
"Do you have their mother?" the man asked.
"She's around here somewhere," the breeder said. "Since they've been
weaned, I don't let her in with them any more, but she's never far away. I'll get
her," he said, leaving them to guard his treasures.
"What do you think?" the man asked his wife when they were alone.
"I don't know," she said, suddenly. "I feel like we're betraying her.
Disrespecting her memory."
Safe among her littermates, a puppy was twitching her eyelids and moving
her legs in sleep. She was smaller than the others; different in a way and not
quite as interested in normal puppy things. Something was missing in her life,
but not in the dream; the same dream as always. Why are they crying? Why
don't they see me?
Did all puppies dream the same thing?
That's when she heard the voices. At first, she wasn't sure if it was the
dream taking a new turn, tricking her into believing what she hoped for had
finally come to be. "I don't know," she heard a woman saying.
What! Lifting her head, seeing her littermates with their paws lined up
along one side of the whelping box, the puppy gathered her legs and jumped
toward the gentle hands caressing her brothers and sisters. Was this possible?
WAIT!
She jumped so fast, her heart seemed to burst - why don't these feet move
quicker! They used to run across the field behind the house! They used to
carry me on hikes in the woods! Hurry, feet - hurry!
But, her feet were clumsy now, tripping on themselves as puppies often do.
Wait for me! She pleaded, hoped. LOOK at me!
And then she felt it . . . strong hands. Familiar hands flowing with life
force and compassion, surrounding her, lifting her!
The ride home that night wasn't quite as chilly as she remembered. Would
they know what she sensed - what filled her with excitement - or would it
forever be her secret? There would be plenty of time to discover that, she decided.
Many years, if they were lucky. Then she felt it. The touch of the woman
reaching for her and hugging her close.
"Hello, Honey," the soft voice whispered ... "We've missed you."
Comments from readers:
Is that a true story?
Mr. H: About as true as you're going to get from a novelist! Actually, it's
based on something in my kennel files, going back to the 1930s. I've always
loved the concept, so I thought I'd test it out on you.
You mean... We're your guinea pigs?
Mr. H: Don't feel bad. I love guinea pigs! But, lots of people believe
animals came back to them and they tell me about it. Great stories!
Have any of your own animals come back to you?
Mr. H: I hope they all come back! But, the best example I can think of
happened a few years ago. I had a call from a couple in Ohio. They had raised three
male dogs and taken them everywhere on their travels, like children. I won't
say the dogs were spoiled, but I do know they were greatly loved. At any rate,
one of the dogs died, they were distraught and they called me for a puppy.
Well, I happened to have a litter planned, and I asked them to tell me about the
dog they had lost. Just on a hunch, I said, why don't we see what happens with
this litter? Sure enough, a puppy was born that looked an awfully lot like
their dog. When they got him home, the other dogs accepted him. He went
straight to the toys ... and picked out his old favorite. And that story, my friends,
really is true.
Reprinted with permission. Author/Artist, Ron Hevener, is owner of one of
the oldest kennels in the U.S. — Lochranza Kennels. He is the author of "The
Blue Ribbon" — "Fate of the Stallion" and "High Stakes." His collectible
figurines and watercolor prints are sought at dog, cat and horse shows everywhere.
See more at www.ronhevener.com
If you would like to write to Ron Hevener, send your e-mail directly to Hevener@dejazzd.com or info@canadasguidetodogs.com and include "On With The Show" in the subject line.
Canada's Guide to Dogs