It’s sunset here at the farm and I hear the sounds coming from a distance…the honking of the Canadian Geese that frequent the pond near the house. The sounds get louder and I see them making their way across the field, but today their flight pattern is different. They are flying very low, and are not headed toward the pond near the house. With nothing there to turn them, they break to the left and I see where they are headed. They continue to fly low, flying across the field, over the other pond, and over him. They fly to the end of the field, circle back around and fly over him again, making their way back the same way that they had first appeared…and then they were gone. The geese were flying over Miller, our sweet, and sometimes nutty, waterfowl dog turned family farm dog. We laid Miller to rest just a little over a day before, burying him under a shade tree near his favorite pond. The same pond we took him the day after we got him, where he fetched dummies from the middle and ran around happy and free. We had him just a little over 8 months, and now that he is gone there is a great big hole in all of our hearts. I don’t really know who came up with the notion of “dog years”, but that is something that I am clinging to today. Eight months equals about 4 years in dog years, meaning that Miller felt our love for those “years” and not months that it was to us. As hard as it is to lose him, I am thankful for the dog years we had him. I am thankful that he got to be here to see Miles kill his very first Drake Mallard duck, which also happened to be banded. He got to run and play on the farm, goose and duck hunt with us, watch TV with us inside the house, play fetch with the kids, and even jump on the trampoline. He taught us about loyalty, living free, and loving big…things that we will never forget. We look back and wish we had more time with him. We wish we had let him in the house more, played with him more, and let him jump in the pool even after the liner had just been replaced. But we cannot live in regrets, all we can do is move forward, remembering that each day we are here on this earth is a gift from God. Unless Jesus comes back tonight as I am writing this, the sun will come up tomorrow, and tomorrow is another day that we can take the time to remember the good times, and enjoy the moments that we have with those around us. To never forget Miller, but in his memory take the time to love one another and to live like we are loved. God sent those geese as a fly over for Miller…not really for him so much as for us. The way those geese came in so low, turning back and flying in a totally different pattern than any other day…the way that they circled around and flew back with no other meaning, except to remind us that God is watching over us. He sees us, sees our pain. He knows that we are hurting but wanted to remind us that He is still there. We all saw it, watching closely as they flew by, almost in slow motion. I walked away to cry…not just for the loss of Miller, but also because I have a Heavenly Father that cares so much for us that in our pain He sent us a reminder and a promise that He is always there and will never leave us.
“God has said ‘Never will I leave you; never will I forsake you.’” Hebrews 13:5b
“The Lord is close to the brokenhearted; he rescues those whose spirits are crushed.” Psalms 34:18
“God’s way is perfect. All the Lord’s promises prove true. He is a shield for all who look to him for protection.” Psalms 18:30
“For I know the plans I have for you, declares the Lord, plans for good and not for disaster. Plans to give you a future and a hope.” Jeremiah 29:11
To read more about our special Miller’s story and how he came to be with us, read the blog “Live Like You’re Loved”.