CHARLIE AND MURRAY

Annette Shurtliff and I became friends in a seventh grade art class, over the creation of a mural of animals wandering across the African veldt.

And we remained friends through junior high, high school, horses, going to different colleges, becoming members of the same church, living together, living apart, same college, marriage (different guys - sorry to break the pattern here), different states/continents, babies around the same time (she had one extra), husbands in radically different careers (teaching special-education kids vs. thinking like a terrorist... wait a minute, maybe they're more alike than I thought).

We became grayer, and heavier, a little slower.

But we both were madly in love with our dogs.

And unfortunate, both Annette and I very recently had to make the incredibly difficult decision to have our dogs put down rather than suffer.

Annette's daughter Mary Anne made a Facebook page for Charlie - I've written about Murray in here.

We'll see you guys in the next life for sure - if we reach that high.

TRIBUTE TO MURRAY

A few months ago, I wrote about my dog Murray, and facing the issue about if and when to have his life ended.

It is amazing the amount of euphemisms we have for death - to pass on, pass away, go to one's final rest, depart this mortal coil (was that ever used before Hamlet?), give up the ghost (does that only apply when you die on Halloween?), go to met your maker, kick the bucket (wouldn't that be a hanging?), expire (yes, just like a warranty), take your last breath..

And on and on and so forth.

It's interesting that with animals, there is a HUGE difference between what we call the death of domesticated vs. 'farm' animals. Our kitties and puppies? They are put down, put to sleep, put out of their misery, going to the great big kennel in the sky - we go major guilt trips.

But cows and pigs? Slaughtered, butchered, bleed out, stunned... we don't think twice about it the next time we eat a hamburger, have pork chops, fry some bacon. They are 'just animals', after all.

Murray was part of my family - a very furry child - and a wonderful example of Christ-like love.

I am going to miss him, but I am also so thankful he is free of his pain now. 

And all of you who get up to heaven before me? Tell him hi for me, okay?