Sunny Days in Heaven
Spiritual/Political/Philosophical Blog on the Nature of Truth and Falsehood and Heaven

Thursday, December 29, 2005  

Luna RIP

Luna Today

We had our fourteen year old dog, Luna, euthanized today.

And I am angry. I’m angry and I’m overcome with sorrow.

Luna was the most beautiful dog I have ever seen. She was the smartest, the most docile, the quietest and loveliest creature among her kind, and it makes me angry that something I loved as much as she is dead.

It makes me angry that people walk around this world laughing and scorning eternal life and the resurrection of the dead. It makes me angry that people of the Academy, the Media, the Government, the entertainment industry have got nothing but hatred for Christians and those who suffer the pain of losing beloved people and creatures and who turn with their whole hearts to the redeemer of sorrows and the resurrector of life.

Have these people, these haters, these vicious, cynical homunculi never lost someone, something they loved to death, and not known in their heart that there must be something more than death? Have these wise fools never grasped the depth of grief, the righteous demand for a justice which makes love itself an eternal reward?

Our dog was of such beauty and excellence, such sweetness and obedience, of such great blessing to her small pack of humans that I shall never see her like again.

There was not a stranger who ever met her who did not like her, admire her beauty and poise, regard her calmness. She was friendly without being demanding of attention. She didn’t much care if someone petted her or not unless it was the evening and she was pleased to be touched. She happily obeyed with a snap of the fingers, a motion of the hand, a simple word.

I ask myself how it is possible that my Luna who had so much that was perfect should die, but that some smart aleck, smarmy comedian should grin and mock righteousness, innocence, honor, courage, and love with such ease and so little penalty? That even churchmen might say he should be immortal and my pet is annihilated.

Perhaps it’s all absurd and I shall never see my dog again, or my wife or child -- that there is no heaven as we imagine or that it works differently than we think. If I had a hundred dogs or wives on Earth, shall I have them all back in the next world?

Nevertheless, I know that when I carried my dead dog’s body away, when I emptied the house of her things, a bed, two bowls, food and medicine, and whatnot -- I know that something of immense reality was cut out of my life without hardly a fare thee well and there has to be an answer to that diminishment.

The impassivity of God is a great burden to those who love him. How often are his consolations nowhere to be found; and yet, in such as this -- what consolation is there? When someone, something we love dies should we not feel it? Should we not be bereft and miserable? How should God comfort us except to let us suffer our pain?

And even in such misery do not our souls both curse God for our suffering, and still thank him for our certain faith that we shall live again and that which we love shall live again?

Let them be damned who live to make fun of innocence, purity, and simplicity. They have cursed themselves, but oh, how I often wish they would feel it.

God, how I loved that dog.

posted by Mark Butterworth | 4:11 PM |