[Fond Memories of My Mother’s Faithful Dog)
She was mostly white in color with a few splashes of brown on her beautiful body. Always, she could be seen running alongside my Mother, behind her and, occasionally, in front of her--always protecting her. Her name was Rose; my Mother’s faithful dog -- her companion, her friend, her protector. My Mother had her from she was a young pup, so she became the family’s favorite dog.
Rose was an American Foxhound. She was loving, gentle, affectionate and a wonderful family dog. Often times when my Mother returned from gardening, with her soft mouth and front paws, Rose would remove the burs that stuck to her apron. As children, we enjoyed playing with Rose. Because she was so gentle, tolerant and affectionate, we knew she would never harm us. However, to strangers, Rose was very aggressive and distrusting. During her young life, Rose twice gave birth to a litter of five pups, each time. Those beautiful pups were given to very appreciative family members and friends, who yearned for a dog of special breeding.
Rose was an extremely brave and intense watchdog; she was also very energetic and tireless in nature. Because we lived on a farm, she had the wide open space for lots of exercise. It was a pleasure to watch her run, jump and did little tricks we taught her. I remember quite vividly how many nights Rose barked all night long—running around the house as if she was chasing something and, in the mornings, her face would be swollen, caused by that intense barking.
At twelve years-old, Rose was no longer young, strong and agile. Knowing this, we feared the worst. Then one fateful day, Rose got in a fight with another dog from the neighboring district. The other dog being younger and stronger had the advantage and Rose was severely bitten over her entire body. My mother lovingly tended her wounds, but was very sad sensing the end was near. Rose seemed to be getting better and we were very happy and excited. Then suddenly, she made a turn for the worse which surprised and saddened everyone because we all thought she would have made a complete recovery. She stopped eating, slept most of the time and gave little whimpers whenever we stroked her and tried to make her comfortable. As a result, she lost weight, became very weak, and nothing we did or said coaxed her back to health. It was certainly a sad time for us, especially my Mother, who knew Rose would soon be gone from us. Sometimes I sat with Rose, stroking her, telling her to please get well again; we all continued praying for her recovery.
Then one night the sad inevitable happened. The following morning, when my Mother checked on Rose, she discovered Rose had passed away during the night. My Mother immediately covered Rose with a blanket, then she sat beside Rose and, for the very first time, I saw my Mother cried. She had lost her companion, her friend and her protector. She knew there would never be another dog like Rose--Rose was very special. Although we had expected Rose’s passing, when it happened, we were very saddened about it and had difficulties coming to terms with her passing. I prayed for my Mother because I saw how much she was hurting. She told us she felt Rose’s spirit with her at all times, especially when she tended the garden.
Rose was buried in the flower garden under the bougainvillea tree -- always in our hearts; even in death-- never far away. The inscription on her headstone simply read: “Rose -- our friend; our companion and protector -- always in our hearts. We miss you.” If there is a heaven for dogs, I firmly believe Rose is a very happy resident there.
We all missed Rose so terribly, but for my Mother, it was worst; she often said, "Rose was special and can never be replaced.” Yes, there were other dogs in the home, but none of them measured up to Rose’s ability and intelligence.
Over the years, I often think fondly of Rose — picturing her the way she was in life — always running alongside my Mother and, and with her soft mouth and front paws, removing the burs that stuck to her apron. Sadly, my Mother has been gone since, but in my heart I sincerely believe she and Rose are happily reunited and now inseparable in paradise.
She was mostly white in color with a few splashes of brown on her beautiful body. Always, she could be seen running alongside my Mother, behind her and, occasionally, in front of her--always protecting her. Her name was Rose; my Mother’s faithful dog -- her companion, her friend, her protector. My Mother had her from she was a young pup, so she became the family’s favorite dog.
Rose was an American Foxhound. She was loving, gentle, affectionate and a wonderful family dog. Often times when my Mother returned from gardening, with her soft mouth and front paws, Rose would remove the burs that stuck to her apron. As children, we enjoyed playing with Rose. Because she was so gentle, tolerant and affectionate, we knew she would never harm us. However, to strangers, Rose was very aggressive and distrusting. During her young life, Rose twice gave birth to a litter of five pups, each time. Those beautiful pups were given to very appreciative family members and friends, who yearned for a dog of special breeding.
Rose was an extremely brave and intense watchdog; she was also very energetic and tireless in nature. Because we lived on a farm, she had the wide open space for lots of exercise. It was a pleasure to watch her run, jump and did little tricks we taught her. I remember quite vividly how many nights Rose barked all night long—running around the house as if she was chasing something and, in the mornings, her face would be swollen, caused by that intense barking.
At twelve years-old, Rose was no longer young, strong and agile. Knowing this, we feared the worst. Then one fateful day, Rose got in a fight with another dog from the neighboring district. The other dog being younger and stronger had the advantage and Rose was severely bitten over her entire body. My mother lovingly tended her wounds, but was very sad sensing the end was near. Rose seemed to be getting better and we were very happy and excited. Then suddenly, she made a turn for the worse which surprised and saddened everyone because we all thought she would have made a complete recovery. She stopped eating, slept most of the time and gave little whimpers whenever we stroked her and tried to make her comfortable. As a result, she lost weight, became very weak, and nothing we did or said coaxed her back to health. It was certainly a sad time for us, especially my Mother, who knew Rose would soon be gone from us. Sometimes I sat with Rose, stroking her, telling her to please get well again; we all continued praying for her recovery.
Then one night the sad inevitable happened. The following morning, when my Mother checked on Rose, she discovered Rose had passed away during the night. My Mother immediately covered Rose with a blanket, then she sat beside Rose and, for the very first time, I saw my Mother cried. She had lost her companion, her friend and her protector. She knew there would never be another dog like Rose--Rose was very special. Although we had expected Rose’s passing, when it happened, we were very saddened about it and had difficulties coming to terms with her passing. I prayed for my Mother because I saw how much she was hurting. She told us she felt Rose’s spirit with her at all times, especially when she tended the garden.
Rose was buried in the flower garden under the bougainvillea tree -- always in our hearts; even in death-- never far away. The inscription on her headstone simply read: “Rose -- our friend; our companion and protector -- always in our hearts. We miss you.” If there is a heaven for dogs, I firmly believe Rose is a very happy resident there.
We all missed Rose so terribly, but for my Mother, it was worst; she often said, "Rose was special and can never be replaced.” Yes, there were other dogs in the home, but none of them measured up to Rose’s ability and intelligence.
Over the years, I often think fondly of Rose — picturing her the way she was in life — always running alongside my Mother and, and with her soft mouth and front paws, removing the burs that stuck to her apron. Sadly, my Mother has been gone since, but in my heart I sincerely believe she and Rose are happily reunited and now inseparable in paradise.
May You Continue To Rest In Perpetual Peace
Our Beloved Friend, Companion and Protector
No comments:
Post a Comment