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HEAVENLY HERD DOG
By
Noreen A. McCluskey
Handsome herd dog, Mugsy, kept me company
and he protected everyone at Mainstay. My volunteer position
with this equine therapeutic riding program is a little different from
what you might think. I don't work with the children enrolled
there. I give massages to the true worker-bees at the program's
heart, the horses. But let's remember, as big and powerful
as horses are, they still think of themselves as prey.
Like clockwork, Mugsy dutifully walked
field and paddock, keeping anything he deemed threatening, like coyotes, at
a safe distance from the horses at Mainstay. He was the
first to warmly greet me whenever I came to volunteer. And
somehow, he always knew when my workday was at an end and would
come around to say so-long. By and by, sweet Mugsy's
days of guardianship had to be mercifully ended. With great
age he had developed cancer.
Soon after Mugsy's passing, I was outside
commiserating about our trusted friend being gone. I asked the horses,
if I called them in when I was finished massaging all of them,
would they help me with a little ceremony to honor Mugsy? Hours later, tired from the work, I just wanted to plant
my keister in the warm car and drive home. However, I
was determined to fulfill my earlier commitment to do this memorial
for Mugsy.
At Mugsy's old spot, just inside the empty
barn, I stopped to unwrap the fresh biscuits I'd brought for the ceremony and
I set them down before filling the dog's water bowl. Next,
I lit a small candle and turned on some soft music. Then, while blotting
away my hot tears, I read a short eulogy, composed for our beloved Mugsy.
I slowly rose from kneeling on the concrete.
It's getting chillier, I thought. I reached for my coat in the tack
room and prepared to leave.
Oh Lord! Out of the corner of my eye, what's
that down the aisle?
Filling every inch of space, horses heads
with their imploring eyes, stared in at me from over the half-door.
Mainstay's entire herd stood there!
In an instant, I was out among them. Here
we were by some mystery, boots and hooves shuffling to still, consoling
each other. With our sad faces hung low, by waning
western light, I repeated the prayer for Mugsy that I'd just said
alone inside. Then for a few moments, the horses and I shared
the quiet bond that is heartbeat and breath.
A long day had ended beautifully. I
stepped back inside to shut the door before closing the barn for the night. Hey
stop! I turned on my heels, calling into the horses in barnyard
through the dark. "If I forgot to call you in, like I
said I would, and was by myself in the barn, how did you all know to come back down
to join me a few minutes ago?" I asked them.
There was no questioning what I felt then
-- that warm, familiar style of Mugsy. It was his spirit, doing one last patrol,
rounding the horses up so we could pray our good-byes together. Looking
up at the heavens and seeing that extra twinkle in the stars,
we agreed it had to be. With a once-in-a-lifetime dog
like Mugsy maybe old habits never die.
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