Joy in the Cemetery

Sometimes, I didn't know the backstory. Pet sitting involves being in the moment and going forward.
Interviews did not include a background check into the circumstances which brought the animal companions into the family. Sometimes, general conversations led to the family pet(s) history, but it was, generally, the exception.

Those of us who seek to continue relationships with loved ones who have died will understand this.  Those of us who are fatalistic and unbelieving will not.

Once you have clearly defined which category you are in, read with an open heart…

Thanksgiving calls us to the family table. The family table may have sprouted leaves of its own in different cities and over the state lines from where we sat as children. This is certainly what happened here.

My friends traveled across state lines (many state lines) to reunite with mother and sister for a traditional dinner.  The number seated around the bounty this year was two less than last year.  Her brother in law passed just a year ago and my friend’s father has been gone more than two.

The week didn’t start well as stated in an e mail to me.  Mother and sister were tense, the air was tense and the holiday shopping hadn’t even occurred to the sister who was hosting the dinner.  A promise had been made by her husband, at the table last year, that they would take their turn in the new home in which the family had not seen.

Mother who is aging was in a snit and felt a cough coming on the morning of Thanksgiving.  She would be just fine if they would make up a plate of left overs and bring it to her later.  This sent the sister into a tirade and hurt feelings were evident.  My friend was directly in the path of both sides and couldn’t seem to reason with either one.  Don’t know how dinner turned out. Haven’t asked…

Well, sometime during that precarious day of planning, a trip to the cemetery was scheduled.  Flowers had been ordered and received and my friend, husband and sister drove to the small country church and family cemetery somewhere in the back woods of the great state of Louisiana.

Let me interrupt a moment.  My reply to the previous e mail had been thoughtful and helpful and I told my friend that she should speak to her Dad and she would hear his answer.  She had been feeling that he was calling mother home and was deeply saddened at the eventuality.

Now all three were tasked to placing the floral arrangement just so on the headstone and my friend was just kneeling and from her side view glanced at the presence of a little yellow dog.  He came directly to her, circumventing the other two and sat and looked at her. Upon a closer look, he was obviously hungry and had a flea problem, but his eyes were shiny bright and his tail wouldn’t stop wagging.

An announcement to the husband and sister came without hesitation:  “Looks like he’s coming home with us!” she said.  She hadn’t even considered that he belonged to someone.

Hasty decisions were made. Frantic calls were placed to the mother’s veterinarian just 15 minutes from closing. It took them 5 minutes to get there. The dog was weighed, dewormed, treated for fleas and released to the custody his new mom and dad.

A collar was purchased and follow up meds were tucked into her purse.

And three plus one got back into the car and drove to mother’s house for an introduction.  The dog was maybe a year and ½ old, 19 pounds and quite possibly a Corgi mix.  At least the “mix” part was right!

He didn’t have a name and yet, it was obvious.  He had been gifted to her by her dad in the Wimberly family cemetery.

Wimberly is coming home soon and I can’t WAIT to meet him.