Gus, Oct. 4, 2008-May 11, 2021

Dear Frank,

It’s been a while since I last wrote. I’ve been waiting ‘til the right time to tell you this. My sweet little companion for the last 12 years is gone. Our buddy, Gus, was found recently to have a fast growing cancer – lymphoma – and life became quite a struggle for him. We had to make the hard decision to let him go.

Ann was available for my late night, fretful calls to discuss Gus’s condition as he lay next to me, so obviously not doing well. David, with his fine mix of tenderhearted love and pragmatism, guided me as we talked about the parameters we should set while this disease progressed.

We looked at the reality of the situation with love, knowing that we are the caretakers of our little creatures and they count on us to help them navigate through life and beyond.

Bess and Lee, who were Gus’s parents during my two-year stint in the Peace Corps and have loved Gus very much, were feeling the impending loss with me, and we all made the difficult decision together.

Dr. Johnny Ohlandt – oh my – was in all ways such a gift. It was as if God placed him directly in front of me and said “Here he is, Jane. This is the person I have for you regarding Gus.” He made the diagnosis and gave me all the options for treatment along with the pros and cons of each. What generosity: He seemed not to mind all my questions. Giving me his cell phone number, he told me to use it. I later hesitated, but the minute he received a concerned text from me, no matter the time of day, my phone was ringing with a call from him. At the final time with Gus, as we gathered there, Dr. Ohlandt’s gentle expertise with both Gus and with the whole family, was so appreciated.

As you know, I’ve always been into restoration. I love studying a water-stained or damaged painting and then taking a brush in hand, giving it back it’s beauty. My large needlepoint rug became threadbare in the corners and after matching the yarn, I (with Gus’s help, as you’ll see in the photos) painstakingly replaced the missing stitches, having so much fun making it like new. With my desire for past relationships to be restored, I eagerly reconnect with old friends, watching friendships return and flourish. A skinned knee? My grandbabies come to me for our special secret set of steps all designed to make it feel better. For me, a disagreement doesn’t get left to fester or dissolve. I’m uneasy until I can confront the problem with hope, addressing it to make things right. 

So, there you go — My thoughts are that everything can be fixed. I’ve always felt that with sheer determination, strength, innovation, whatever, I can reconstruct the broken, retrieve the lost, mend the torn, renew the old, and make all things right, dang it. Yes, we are all gifted to accomplish so much on this earth, even things miraculous. However, life has an enormous stubborn streak (I’m finding out the hard way) and its direction can’t be forced. Know why? Because, thankfully, it’s not all in our hands. 

With my Gus, I was met with the realization that I couldn’t fix his little body. Over the past days, now that he is gone, I’ve been grappling with the fact that I can’t bring him back. Standing in the middle of my house, I ask, “Are you SURE? Is this REALLY final?”  I walk around thinking I hear Gus’s usual sighs and snorts as he circles in place on his bed, then plops down, licking his chops, yawning and settling in for a nap. I hear a truck, I listen for his barks when he ferociously protects the house from the delivery person, but there is nothing but silence now, as the package is placed on my porch. Sitting with my morning coffee, I expect to feel his paw as he lays it on my knee, and to see him look up at me with that expectant, silent, eye-to-eye request for a morning scratch behind the ears.

Although he had lived a long life with us, (almost 13 years) every bone in my body wanted to fix this situation. But, the truth is, I have no job left undone. My job was to give him the best life I could, and I did so. He is healthy and well now with no signs of cancer or any other infirmity his little body might have had. He’s been restored. 

Not long ago, on the day Gus was put to sleep, I went home to my empty house, got on the bed, closed my eyes, and just finally breathed, processing what had transpired. I messaged my sister (as I usually do when things of great importance occur). She knew how emotional I was. Out of our conversation came a comforting story that I hope to put in book form. It was the perfect thing to read to my grandbabies. Their reaction was lovely and full of joy as they talked about all their good memories of Gus. I think it’ll be a good read for anyone of any age who grieves the loss of a pet. 

In the coming weeks, I’ll sketch and paint the illustrations to go with Ann’s sweet, wise words and I’ll let you know when it’s all accomplished so you can have a copy!   

Speaking of heaven, though, here are my thoughts about God’s little creatures and the various ideas we humans have about what happens when they leave us.

A popular thought is that our pets go “over the rainbow bridge”. It is said that when an animal dies (one who has been especially close to someone), that pet goes to the rainbow bridge where there are meadows and hills where they can run and play together. The day comes when a pet’s owner joins them at the bridge and they cross together, into heaven. 

I was curious about the rainbow bridge and why it has taken on such popularity over the past several decades. I decided to find it’s origins. It’s a fairly new concept. I read that in the 1980’s, a man named Paul C. Dahm, a grief counselor in Oregon, wrote the first Rainbow Bridge poem. Afterwards came several more. Then, the concept simply took off.   

Here’s an interesting read about the topic. 

Do our pets go to heaven? The answer is a personal one that lies deep within your own heart and spirit. I choose to believe they do go to heaven, with no stopping to wait for us anywhere along the way. It’s nonstop, straight into the loving arms of the Father. 

In some forms of Christian faith, it has been traditionally taught that animals have no divine spark and no more consciousness, intelligence or soul than rocks or trees. Some may believe that subscribing to the idea that a pet goes to heaven is humanizing that pet. I say that although the scriptures are up for various interpretations, I certainly love what Ecclesiastes 3:19-20 says: 

“For what happens to the children of man and what happens to the beasts is the same; as one dies, so dies the other. They all have the same spirit and man has no advantage over the beasts, for all is vanity. All go to one place. All are from the dust, and to dust all return.”

And now, here is . . .

Gus’s Great News – A Special Report from Heaven 

by Ann Bashara

Wow!  This is the most beautiful place I have ever seen. I had a nice place before, but this…I don’t have enough barks in me to tell you about it!  I’ve heard my family talk about this place, but they will never believe what it’s like!

I can run anywhere I want to – No limitations!  And I have lots of friends to run with. But, that’s not the greatest part. The first thing that happened when I got here — I opened my eyes and there was Jesus! And He loves me.  He welcomed me, picked me up, squeezed me so tight and even let me lick his face!

Then, off we went for a walk together, so He could show me around.  He introduced me to so many other doggies – big ones, little ones!  We’re going to have so much fun together.

Now, he’s taking me to see the family I have here. What a reunion that will be!  I get to see Mitzi and Salli, the two other doggers like me that everyone used to talk about!  

Boy, do I have stories to tell about where I came from. Lots of people loved me and I loved them, too – big people and some fun little people – Vivi, Charles, Jane, and the newest one, baby David. Jesus said He knows allllll about it!  

As we walked, one doggy who joined us was admiring my smile and my beautiful straight teeth. What?!? Where’s a mirror!! I haven’t seen them yet!  Wonder what else is new about me? I ran alongside my new friends and guess what! I ran straight as an arrow! No more crooked romping for me. Just look at me now. This “Little Critter” (as my mama always called me) is made ALL new. 

I’ll bet she and my family are remembering lots of good times we had together and telling stories about me now.

One thing I want them to know for sure is that they don’t have to worry about me. It’s PERFECT here, and if I do say so myself, I’M PERFECT!  Just look at this smile!  I’m having such a great time, so wipe away those tears. We will be together again some day. Bye-bye for now!

Love,

Gus

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