Marley Goes Home

He was a sight. He had been homeless for a while when someone picked him up and took him to the home of Linda Cox, our resident dog rescuer. Linda had tried for a couple of weeks to find his owner but to no avail. The first time I laid eyes on him, I fell in love.

He only weighed 9 pounds. Skinny as a rail. You couldn’t see his face for the dreadlocks. I immediately thought of Bob Marley, hence his new name. He had hairy feet that looked like the Grinch. Solid black which made his red tongue, which poked out prodigiously from his tiny mouth, look like Rudolph the reindeer’s nose. He always had a smile on his face, and he danced around like a butterfly with sore feet inviting you to join him in a new misadventure.

We brought him home primarily to be a companion for Gracie, our Havanese. She is a Diva with a capital “D.” She was an only “child” and preferred it that way, but she was left alone for hours while we worked. We thought it would help her separation anxiety to have a friend.

Marley came in smelling Gracie from head to butt. Gracie just turned her head to the side as if to say, “If I don’t see you, you’re not there.” It took a while, but Marley was persistent. He had all the personality in the world, and Gracie only had eyes for her Mama. She is a Mama’s girl. Marley immediately became a Daddy’s boy.

In a matter of days, they were like brother and sister. Constantly bickering but loving each other, and one never far away from the other. Marley was expressive in his love. Gracie loved his loving but never wanted him to know that.

They both wanted Wanda and me at home and all together. Whenever one of us was away, they would lay on the floor watching the door. Whenever we came home, there were our two little fur balls. Marley was jumping up and down and spinning all around, and Gracie was sniffing us up one side and down the other to see if we had committed canine adultery. Petting other dogs.

When things settled down, Marley would start nibbling on Gracie behind her ear like he was trying to eat a bug. Gracie would tolerate it for about 5 seconds before she growled signaling that she had enough. Both of them loved having everyone home and safe.

Marley loved chasing squirrels. When we took them out to pee, Marley was on high alert. The trees shook as all the squirrels climbed to higher ground. Before we put the fence up in the back yard, we spent most of our time tracking Marley through the woods. It is my belief that chasing squirrels is how Marley became homeless. He chased one so far, he lost his way back home. Thank the Lord, he did. All things work together for good to them that love the Lord and dogs.

Marley was about 2 years old when we adopted him. He would not let you pick him up under his front legs like you would pick up a baby sitting on the floor. I believe he came from a home that had small children who wanted to pick him up all the time. To the day he died, I could not pick him up that way. I had to pick him up from the side under his belly.

We all have both good and bad memories that determine how we see life, don’t we? I believe Marley’s homelessness made him more appreciative of his home life with us. Life experiences make us bitter or better. We get to choose.

Marley was a reminder for me to enjoy every minute of life. He had rubber bones that he would want me to throw for him to fetch. He would get his bone and stand in front of me panting. When I would reach to get it, he would jump away. He was a mischievous little man. I would chase him down and take it away from him, and he would immediately run to the hall where I’d throw it. He would take off like a bat out of Sunday School sliding to a halt on the hardwood floors grabbing his bone as he went by. Then he would run by me, and we would do it all over again. I never wore him out. Can’t say the same about me.

He loved to chase the water from the garden hose. Wanda would spray her flowers and Marley with chase and bite the spray, his teeth bared like a great white shark after a seal. He would run pell-mell around the yard for as long as you wanted to spray. Then he would come over soaking wet like a drowned rat. He would stand at your feet waiting for the towel to engulf him and rub him dry. He loved being dried off after a good hose chase. Gracie loved being dried off, too, even though she would never get wet. Divas don’t do wet. However, she loved her towel drying, too.

About six months ago, Marley started drinking tons of water, a sign of diabetes. We started giving him insulin shots but not before he lost most of his eyesight to cataracts. For a while, he would bump into the furniture until he learned his way around. I would pick him up and snuggle him as we descended the deck stairs for his frequent pee runs. He loved the snuggling. He was a lover. He would nestle his little head under my chin, and you could just feel him relax. Jesus would do the same for us if we would only let Him.

He was doing fine until last Friday afternoon. I noticed he didn’t drink much water that day. Very unusual for him. He did not eat much Friday night. On Saturday morning, I tried to feed him in order to give him his shot, but he would not eat. He just stood there. He would lay down momentarily, but then he would stand up and quiver. He had a difficult time breathing. I took him over to his water bowl to get him to drink, and he collapsed. His leg crumpled under him at a weird angle. Watery blood came out of his mouth and foam coated his lips. I told Wanda, “I think Marley’s dying.”

We picked his limp body up from the floor and headed for the vet. On the way, I told Wanda that he was gone. We turned around and went back home. We wrapped him up and put him in a box. He stayed there for two days because I could not bring myself to bury him. I cried every time I walked by his box in the carport.

Yesterday, we buried him in the backyard. I wish I could have buried my pain along with his body. He was my boy. He came closer to loving me like Jesus than most people I know. Nobody got as excited to see me as Marley. I will miss him until I see Him when I go Home.

You see, all pets go to Heaven. Especially dogs. Dogs love you unconditionally. They love better than people do. You can fuss at your dog, and he will sadly go away. But you can call him back, and he will immediately come to you, tailing wagging, and grinning like a possum eating briars. People are not that forgiving and have much longer memories.

If you don’t believe me, try locking your dog and your wife in the trunk of your car for an hour. Then open it and see which one jumps out and licks you in the face. I rest my case.

Marley was a Rottweiler trapped in a Toy Poodle’s body. He truly believed he was the big dog. He feared nothing. One day a Pit Bull wandered into our yard. Gracie ran back to the house, and Marley ran over and started smelling the huge dog’s behind. The Pitt Bull laid down and rolled over on her back. Marley ran over and started nibbling on her ear like he did Gracie. He was fearless.

He loved life. He never worried. Never fretted. Never complained. When he went blind, and I never heard him ask, “Why me?” He was and is special. The Lord blessed us with nine years of joy wrapped in a fur ball named MARLEY.

You are the MAN, Little Man. You are temporarily leaving your earthly Papa and going Home to be with your Heavenly Papa. But not to worry. Your earthly Papa will be Home shortly, and then you can relax and chew on Gracie’s ear once again, because we will all be in the House together.

If love could have saved you, then you would have lived forever.

I love you, buddy. Until we meet again…

Blessings,

Kenny