Roxy has a murder bark.
That’s what we call it.
Somebody comes to the door, and that old Rottweiler lets loose with a sound that says, “You have made a terrible mistake.”
The papers I got from the vet tells me she has a bite history.
Maybe she does.
I never saw it.
What I saw was a dog who had been hurt enough to believe that hands weren’t always good things. Scar around one of her back legs right above the paw, like it was caught in a trap or the fence of a breeding farm’s pen. Her teets hanging low all the time as if she’s ready to start nursing babies that are long since gone.
And she seems to look for them at times, eyes looking off into the far off past, her black and tan face touched by a sadness only a mother can know.
It took me three days just to get her to take a dog biscuit from mine.
Three days.
One biscuit.
And I suppose somewhere along the way she decided I was all right.
Because now she comes over and looks at me with those great big eyes.
And I swear that dog smiles.
And that little stubby bear tail that Rottweilers are famous for starts going.
Faster.
Faster.
Like the wing of a hummingbird stuck on the backside of a ninety-five-pound Rottweiler.
Sometimes I tell her, “Roxy, you better slow that thing down or you’re gonna fly away.”
They tell me she’s overweight.
“Put her on a diet.”
I look at Roxy and think, What for? What has an old dog got left to look forward to?
She isn’t trying to fit into a dress.
She isn’t worried about swimsuit season.
She wants a biscuit.
She wants somebody nearby.
She wants to know she’s safe.
And mostly…
she wants to love us.
But lately, the old girl stumbles down the stairs. Her eyes aren’t what they used to be. Sometimes her mind wanders.
Sometimes her body forgets things before her heart does.
And I know what’s coming.
I just don’t like knowing it.
Someday that murder bark will be gone.
The house will be too quiet.
There’ll be no big Rottweiler looking at me with those eyes.
No smile.
No ninety-five-pound body coming over just to be close.
And no little bear tail beating the air like hummingbird wings.
Someday Roxy really is going to fly away.
And when she does,
I hope somewhere, somehow, she finally understands what took her three days to believe:
That this hand of mine reaching toward her
was never going to hurt her.
Oh! She was safe.
Oh! She was wanted.
Oh! She was loved.
And Roxy… you can quit barking now.
Nobody’s ever going to hurt you anymore.
Go ahead, old girl.
Let that little bear tail fly.
And one day soon…
I’ll join you in the sky…
And I’ll fly away and meet you…
And grandma Carolyn…
In the Sweet By and By…
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Hymn: “In the Sweet By and By”
There’s a land that is fairer than day,
and by faith we can see it afar;
for the Father waits over the way
to prepare us a dwelling place there.
Refrain: In the sweet by and by, We shall meet on that beautiful shore; In the sweet by and by, We shall meet on that beautiful shore.
2 We shall sing on that beautiful shore the melodious songs of the blest; and our spirits shall sorrow no more- not a sigh for the blessing of rest. [Refrain]3 To our bountiful Father above we will offer our tribute of praise, for the glorious gift of His love, and the blessings that hallow our days. [Refrain]