Farewell to You, Itty Bitty Benny

Benny was my best friend. A little copper-colored "doxie," he was always amazed by acts of kindness, and readily available for all sorts of loving. But once he'd reached his full, he would slowly back away, like a vassal before his sovereign, and tunnel beneath the covers for a private sleep. He remained with me for 14 years. A few weeks ago he stopped eating. I spoon-fed Ben soft foods. Then he stopped drinking. I got a bulb syringe from the pharmacy, and gave him small amounts of water, at a slow-drip, as not to gag him. Then, little Bennie had an episode of bleeding from the mouth. I took him to the bathroom, and ministered all the care I knew, begging God to stop the bleeding. Within a minute of that prayer (I am entirely honest) his bleeding stopped. So I asked God for a favor. It was simply this: Lord, you made this little guy, and he has been an incredible dog, and a faithful friend. Please, do not let him end like this. If you must take him, please let it be painless, and without this bloody effusion. Around three this morning, my sweet friend left me. He passed in his sleep. No pain, or misery. He left us on Valentine's Day, a wonderful day. I know I'm projecting human emotions on an animal, but I'm going to make that rare error this morning. There could not have been a more appropriate day for his exit. He hung in there as long as possible, and made his exit in the hands of faithful love. How perfect. And no blood. I am thankful that I was allowed all these years with my amazing friend. I am thankful he left me on his own terms, gently, and in peace. My heart is in a strange place this morning. I am grieving my loss. But I am happy he was my little pal. We called him "Itty Bitty Benny". I will bury him in the back lot of my church. I do not think Jesus will mind. He made Benny. He called him home. I will see him again some day, and will not be surprised if he is the first to welcome me to our forever home, where he will always have a place before my fire, curled at my feet. Hail, and Farewell, Benjamin Franklin James Woods.