Abbie Dabby Doo was my dog, and what I mean... she was MY dog. She would tolerate other people; except she would nip the people she didn't like. The first time I saw her do it was when the UPS man came to our house, which was a regular occurrence. We were standing and talking on the driveway, Abbie came to be by my side, and as the UPS man and I were talking, "Did she just nip you?" I ask, "Yeah; she does it all the time, not a problem, I wear steel-toed shoes, something about shoes." Abbie was my little protector.
I remember when my Dad passed away and how I missed our daily talks. He would walk every day and would often stop as he passed our house even if it was a few minutes. Nothing significant, but to say hello and he loved us. He was a great man and always cared about his family, especially his grandkids. When he passed away, I missed those times and the few seconds we shared every day. Nowadays, I would give anything to see him walking up to the house with his "old man" hat on and a smile on his face, even if it's only for a few seconds.
When Abbie died, I missed my Dabbie Doo, who licked my face and eyebrows and slept on my pillow with me. It was always so comforting to turn over in the middle of the night, and she would lick my face, and we would go back to sleep holding each other. Time moves on, and things change, and life as we knew it is gone, and I indeed found this out when Clancy died too.
Just a little over a year ago, Whiskey came into my life. I got a call that she needed a home, and it needed it pretty quick. The owners lived far away and couldn't get her to us, and no one else was available to help that weekend. We made arrangements to drop Whiskey off at a Veterinarian's office to get her shots and spayed, and I was to pick her up the next day. I took her sight unseen, and I knew it was a chance, but something told me it was right. When I got her in the car, she was so grateful, she licked my face.
Once home, I sat on the picnic bench, and Whiskey sat behind me and licked my face and eyes. "Abbie stop," and then I realized it wasn't Abbie, but it was touching and brought back so many memories. I thought little about it, but things started coming together. One day I was walking down our lane, and I had shut the gate to keep the dogs inside the fence. As I had walked about 20 feet, Whiskey appeared at my side. "You need to stay with the dogs; you can't go." I turned and placed her inside the fence because I thought I had left her out. Before I could get the gate shut, Whiskey jumped at the exact place Abbie always jumped the fence, she wanted to be with me. No other dog that we have ever had jumped that fence. Clancy would jump through the gate but never the fence.
While magic happens on the farm at times, I have to wonder about this. Both Abbie and Whiskey lick my face and eyebrows, jump the fence at the exact location and sleep on my pillow every night. They both always lay in my lap at night while I'm in my recliner. Is there more to life than we can understand? While I will never really know the things that happen around us in the rescue world, I do know there is a force that has come upon us to do the impossible work when there is no chance it will work out... Many times, when things come together for a rescue dog, someone will say, "you know, Clancy had his paw in this." In our hearts, we do believe it because there is no other explanation other than his spirit may be responsible.
|Abbie and Clancy|
As I lowered the body of Clancy and then Abbie into their grave, little did I know I would see their spirits and love again through the action that we see every day. Abbie, through Whiskey with the licks on my face who comforts me in the middle of the night. Clancy, who I see every day through the dogs that are sent to his dream. Life is a mystery, and there are things that we can't understand, but maybe we're not meant to. Just for a few seconds, I see my beloved past pets again and someday I'm hopeful to see that older man with his "old man" hat walking toward me with a smile on his face... You must believe, just look. Ken