Precious Gifts

Unconditional Love

Love and Heartache

Fourteen and a half years ago I was given the most precious gift by one of my most precious friends, Fred. A small bundle, all fur and big green eyes, the image of a baby lion cub…and the gift that keeps on giving.

At first, I said thanks but no thanks. I already had two and did not need or want a third, but then my friend told me this story.

“I was sitting one day watching the litter, four of them, as I always do. Watching them interact with their siblings and mother. As a trainer, I look for certain traits, certain small things that can tell me the nature and breeding of an animal. I watch carefully, always careful to note those small details that tell me so many things.

I had been watching for about ten minutes, and noticing that one of the litter was lying away from his brother and sisters I began focusing on him. That was when I heard the voice. I can tell you Rosemary” he said, “I was so startled I almost fell off my chair. I’m not psychic” he continued, shaking his head, “I’ve never heard or seen anything remotely supernatural before, but as I focused more on that little creature I swear I heard the voice again. Three times, each time louder than the time before, and each time saying the same thing.

Rosemary's! Rosemary's! Rosemary's!

So I know Rosemary, that as much as you might think you don’t want him, he is well and truly yours!”

I went home without him, telling myself that taking care of another pup was just too much. It was just not the right time to take on more responsibilities. My life was in complete disarray. My daughter was sick, my assistant had stolen from me, the FBI and the IRS were involved. There surely could not be a worse time to bring a new addition into my family. And yet…

I heard the voice again. Three times, each time louder than the time before, and each time saying the same thing.

“Rosemary's Rosemary's Rosemary’s.”

The next day, first thing in the morning, after a very sleepless night, I set out for Fred’s house once again. I was going to get my gift. The gift that has kept on giving for over fourteen years. The gift that will continue to keep on giving as the memories remain for all of the rest of my life.

Fred Bradley, a renowned dog breeder, and trainer of cocker spaniels, bred for the field, had made a name for himself in the world of hunting dogs, breeding, and training champions. Recognized by the kennel club, and known for his incredible way with dogs, a true ‘dog whisperer’, both in the United States and in England, had become a friend when I took my Britany, Rosie, to him for training. We had become such good friends, spending some wonderful Christmases together, that whenever I traveled I would always leave my animals with him to look after while I was away, and so this is how I came to be at his house on that somewhat fateful day, to pick up my dogs.

Fred and his wife were not at all surprised to see me. He knew the puppy was mine. He knew, having heard the voice loud and clear, that it was meant to be, and although this was a rather expensive gift, and he could have sold the puppy for quite a considerable amount of money, he willingly gave me this precious gift.

I cannot say that I am an animal lover. That would be too broad a statement to make. I don’t love all animals, and in fact, find some to be annoying, and, on admittedly rare occasions, to be rather distasteful. I can also understand those who dislike the idea of having a pet, and who think those of us who do have animals taking over our houses and our lives to be mad. Dirty, smelly things that they can often be. And how true that is…the dirty smelly part I mean, remembering my King Charles Cavalier, Karma. For as much as I loved him, as he got older he also got smellier…more smelly? And cross-eyed…an ugly…but beautiful to me…little puppy.

So although I am not an all-encompassing die-hard animal lover, I can say that I have loved all of my animals, without exception, and there have been quite a few over the years. Some I have loved more than others, some have been particularly special, and yes, I do agree that they are all special in their own way. But some…well, some, a very few, less than a handful, have had a certain light, a certain something, perhaps undefinable but nevertheless, I can only say, is just a little more ‘special’.

Sometimes, in life, we are given unwanted gifts, and sometimes we are given gifts of joy. Sometimes we are given a gift which is both unwanted and joyful. Painful and joyful. Sometimes, if we are lucky, truly lucky, we are given that gift which gives us the most incredible joy, and the most overwhelming heartbreak. This was my gift!

Given to me at a time when I thought I had no room in my heart for another; given at the time I needed it the most. A gift of such incredible healing, my heart breaks, and tears fall in the remembering. Remembering the small and fluffy bundle who crept slowly into my heart, finding a space I thought was not even there. Remembering the shadow, always by my side, no matter what, and unendingly and fiercely loyal. Remembering the healing of his presence in my life. The joy in his joyful and eager need to belong…to me! Only to me!

Taken from me at a time when I was not ready to let go but knew I must, for it was his time to go home. My beautiful, beautiful gift, which I must return selflessly, have returned not quite as selflessly as I should, my heart breaking with the loss, and tears falling relentlessly as I write.

Yesterday was hard as I lay for hours on the bed, holding my little boy close to me. His face tucked under my chin, his favorite place, his breathing labored, and every now and then, softly nudging me…and who was comforting who?

Knowing he was relying on me to keep him safe. Knowing that without my help he would suffer needlessly. Knowing and embracing my loyalty to him, as he had always done for me, I knew it was his time. That I must accept and do what needed to be done.

And now, through my tears, smiling in remembering the love and joy I have been gifted for all these years, I know that my puppy is safe now, free of pain, and with his friend Nino.

That same voice that brought him to me, the voice of God, is the one that holds him safe once more. And I thank God for my wonderful gift of joy. And I thank God for the heartbreaking gift of pain. For without that gift I would never have experienced the love, the shared love between us.

Cachorro and I!

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