Dead Dog Gone -- A Letter from Pastor Todd

Hello, PoC!!

I’m not a huge animal lover.  That’s not new information for most of you.  It’s not that I don’t like animals, it’s just that I only like them from a great great distance.  And, you can’t argue that they are just as cute over there!  As for soft and cuddly, I’m fine to take your word for it.  I’m no stranger to soft and cuddly.  Been there.  Done that.  But, from a great distance, I suppose you could say I’m an animal admirer of sorts.  Of sorts.

Because of the “phobia-lite” that I have with pets and animals (itchy-itchy-sneeze-sneeze), I’m also not very sympathetic when animals are ill (though I’m trying) and I’m not very pet-savvy when pet-decisions need to be made.  My wife, Kim would tell you that there are many, many examples to describe my pet-cluelessness, but perhaps the best example would be the lack of problem-solving skill I displayed when our dog, Andy (Andrew Gus, to be exact) suddenly died.  My pet-telligence was off the charts.

Our friend and fellow pastor, Alan, had just spent a few days with Andy while we were away.  Because he actually showed our overlooked dog some attention (He broke down the system is what he did.), I naturally blamed him for our dog’s demise.  The truth, however, (Don’t tell Alan.) is that Andy had trouble breathing one night and simply went to doggy-heaven without much drama or discomfort (or so it seemed from a great, great distance).  The kids were very young and didn’t have much to say.  Kim was sad, of course.  Andy had been a good dog.  I, on the other hand, just had one thought on my mind, which was, “How do I get this dead dog out of my house?”

Now, I don’t mean to be insensitive...but, I am...naturally clueless about these things.  I mentioned to a friend that I supposed that I would simply put Andy Dandy Dog by the road with the trash the next day.  This seemed logical and expedient.  However...I was told, rather rudely, that, “You’re not allowed to do that.”  Well, that didn’t make sense to me.  Why not?  So... (And here’s where Kim would volunteer to tell the rest of the story through gleeful snorts.)...I called the department of sanitation (or whatever it’s called) and I spoke to a kind-ish woman about my plight.  I asked her if I could put Andy by the road with the garbage...even offered to “double bag” him and put him in a sturdy box (like the ones big roaster ovens come in).  There was a pause on the other end of the line.  And then she said, “Just a moment.”  I thought that perhaps she was asking her supervisor...that they would think it was a great idea...perhaps even tell me that they need more whip-smart southerners like me around these parts.  But, then I heard muffled laughing...

So, I have a tip for you.  When you are talking about someone behind their back while on the phone, you really can and should use the hold or mute buttons.  That’s what they were made for.  Really.  At the very least, make sure that your fingers create a tight seal on the mouthpiece before you talk all nasty-like about the person who is listening on the other end of the line.  It’s an actual phone, not tin cans with string, so I CAN HEAR YOU.  Anyway, the rude-ish department of sanitation lady on the other end of the phone had clearly not gotten that memo, because I heard her say to everyone in the office, while stifling very mannish grunts and giggles, “There’s this guy on the phone...He wants to know...if he can...put his dead dog...by the road...with the trash!!!!!”

I was not amused.  I did NOT admire her...even from a great great distance!

She finally regained her composure and said, “I’m sorry, Sir, but you’re not allowed to put your dead dog by the road with the trash.”  So, I asked her what I was supposed to do with Dead-Andy.  Get this:  according to her, you have to take the dead dog to the vet and pay a fee for them to dispose of the dog.  What?!?  I didn’t pay for the dog when it was a puppy.  Why would I pay for it now that it is...the opposite of a puppy?

So, there I sat...in my house...with this dead thing.  I wanted it out.  Before it stank.  Before it rotted.

This week we’re going to rejoin the story of Joseph and his brothers from Genesis.  Joseph has been hurt and the harm that he has suffered has left the stench of anger, bitterness, rage, and dead innocence behind.  He can choose to live with it.  He can’t do that – it will kill him.  He can try to remove it himself – lay it by the road with all the other garbage, but he doesn’t have the strength.  Or, He can seek the Lord.  He can ask the Lord to remove the sting from the painful memories.  Did you know the Lord can do that?

We finally asked a friend of ours, Larry, to help us with the doggy-fiasco.  He came and got the dog and took Andrew Gus on a long country ride down a long country road and buried him for us.  He even made a nice little shrine and said, “Todd, you can come visit him anytime you want.”  Snick...snicker.  Really, he said that.  

I want to see you Sunday.  I’d like for you to bring your most horrible painful memory.  I’d like for you, along with me, to lay it down on the altar before the Lord so we can ask Him to remove the sting.  I think you already agree with me that it’s time to get that “death” out of the house.

I don’t mean to be insensitive...but, I am...convinced that we need God’s help with this.

Your Pastors Are Praying For You,

Pastor Todd