We don’t have any dogs of our own. When we come to our cabin the neighbor’s dog comes to visit. We call him our “grand dog.” Yesterday evening he made his rounds. We were sitting on the porch and we saw him come our way. He had something else on his mind. He didn’t come by at first. We were so disappointed. However, a little later he made his appearance. He looked so much better than he had looked on previous visits. His coat was shiny. No sores or ticks. We loved on him like any good grandparent does. I didn’t have a juicy piece of meat to give him like I usually have. It was our first day here and we hadn’t cooked yet. So, I scrounged around in the kitchen and came up with a half of a pimento cheese sandwich and four sweet potato fries. Left overs from my recent trip with my Sunday school class lovingly known at the W. O. L. F pack (women of living faith.) I really figured he wouldn’t eat it but he engulfed it in a minute flat. The next thing I knew my hubby was right in the middle of the floor with him.  They had such a good time wresting and tussling around. He must have worn him out because he plopped down, flat on his stomach and laid his head down on his crossed paws. “He looks sad to me,” I suggested. My hubby agreed. There's just something in his eyes. We talked about his family and agreed that if we lived in a dysfunctional family like hers, we would be sad too. She lives with a mean bulldog. Not sure what kind he is. He’s loud and angry. His owner definitely wants him that way for some reason. We started talking about that he might be sick. Don’t really know where that came from other than he just looked really tired in his eyes. My hubby made the comment that almost made me cry. He looked at him and held his little face and said, “I wonder if I will see you in heaven one day?” Instantly, I envisioned my hubby standing in heaven, and out of no where here he comes, bounding as fast as he could up to him. And he said to him, “Well hey there Jasmine.” You know I never thought about that very much, dogs going to heaven.

I know that people love their dogs. I have always loved mine too. I know some might not be very happy with my opinion. But, I just can't understand why they take them everywhere they go. I mean, it's a lot of trouble. It's like taking your children shopping. It isn't fun! Everywhere I go I see people with their dogs. Today I saw a couple in the grocery store. The lady was pushing the grocery cart and her husband was pushing their dog in this stroller type gadget, following along behind her. I must confess. I shook my head in disbelief. My thought was, “Can’t they go anywhere without there dogs?” I guess I'm just old fashioned. My dogs stayed at home. It’s a different time for sure.

 I remember my daddy had an old hunting dog named, Joe. I barely remember him. I do remember him going with us one time in the woods to look for a Christmas tree. Apparently my sister loved him, because I still remember the look on their faces the day we buried him in our yard. My daddy and sister cried. I didn't understand why. I didn’t know him that well. I had a couple of dogs growing up that were my buds. One was named Trouble. I have no idea what breed he was. Just a solid black dog. He was my childhood playmate. Like his owner, he was always into something. We had a lot of fun together. Not sure how old he was but  he started swelling and we took him to the vet. The vet told us he had heart worms. There was nothing we could do. It was a sad day for me and my mama. I didn't know that she was that close to him. But, I remember her crying too. My other running buddy was half shepherd and collie. Unlike Trouble, he was a pretty dog. Sweet dog too, but he couldn’t stay at home. He was constantly going across the road from our house to investigate at the park near the creek. We fed him, but I guess it wasn't interesting enough for him. The delectable treasures that others left behind were just too tempting. Poor dog got run over so many times that he could barely walk. He never learned. It was what ended him. Later on when I got married and had kids we had a dog named Choco. I guess she reminded us of a cup of hot chocolate with marsh mellows on top. She was a homeless poodle. Someone asked my husband if we wanted her. We loved her. Such a pretty dog. We kept her groomed. I remember when we picked her up they always had bows in her hair. She slept at the foot of my bed every night. I remember one night I laid my hands on her and prayed for her when she was sick. The saddest thing happened though. After my divorce, I moved to another town. A new house. Choco had started losing her eyesight before we moved. I heard that poodles commonly get cataracts.  One morning, I let her out like I always did and she must have wondered off a little too far. She got lost. I never found her. That's the last dog that I had. That was around 33 years ago.

Haven’t thought about these dogs in years and years. Not until we got our grand dog. But, now, that I think about it...dogs have just got to be in heaven. Heaven is the happiest place that we could ever imagine. I can’t think of many things that have made me happier than my dogs

I hope to see you again one day; Trouble, Teddy, Old Joe, Choco, and Jasmine…

sammie jean