Tribute to Fenway

What’s this, you say. Another tribute?

What can I say, I reply. Another loss. Another tribute.

Yes, this has indeed been a season of personal loss for our family. Layers and layers of loss. Maybe for yours too? If so, my BBFF (Blessed Blog Friend Forever), you have my deepest empathy. I send you my warmest hug.

I’ll talk more about that on my next post, but today, I need to shower a little love on my wonderful little furry buddy, Fenway. If you’ve read my books, you know him well. For more than a decade, I ended my book cover bio’s with, “Debora lives, loves, and laughs in central Florida with her husband and desperately wicked pooch, Fenway.”

He had his own mind, all right. A lot like me. Stubborn. Headstrong. Always making wrong decisions. Fiercely independent yet totally devoted. Which is why I learned so much from him.

Papa God sent Fenners to me on the middle of a rush hour highway when I needed him most back in 2005. His filthy matted fur and calloused paws testified that he’d been a wandering soul for many months. As he trotted down the center line of stalled bumper-to-bumper traffic, he paused to look up at my car window and make eye contact.

Something passed between us. Indefinable but real nevertheless.

When I rolled down my window and asked, “Do you want to come home with me?” he actually nodded his head, I’d swear to it. Then I opened my car door and he jumped right into my lap like he totally belonged. And he did. Fenway became my little black shadow and mourned whenever he had to leave my side during the remainder of his nearly 16 years on this earth. (And if you wonder about my views on the hereafter, I’m convinced that the pearly gates have a doggie door.)  

Rare is the person who has not had the privilege of bonding with a furry friend, so I know that you know the heartache of having to let them go. So although your story is different than mine, please consider this a tribute to your beloved fur baby too. What a gift from heaven they are. Stop a moment and remember the good times.

And in the sage advice of Dr. Seuss, don’t cry because it’s over; smile because it happened (I keep telling myself this over and over every day).

It was hard to choose which Fenway story to share for his tribute (there were quite a few sprinkled throughout my books and blog posts), mostly about his incorrigible antics, but I finally settled on this one from my blog several years ago. It seemed to best capture his essence: a rambunctious spirit who intentionally chose to submit himself to my leadership. He chose me, just like I chose him. I knew it from the first day when our hearts touched and I knew it to the end when we had to say goodbye.

Papa God sent him to heal my shattered heart back in 2005 and Fenway accomplished his mission with flair. The joy he provided was incomparable. The fun and laughter brought color back into my black-and-white world. I learned so much from Fenway … about life, about faith, about myself.

I will always be grateful to both Papa and that jaunty little fellow that I was blessed to call mine.

Collared by Choice

To tug or not to tug…

My pooch Fenway wears a – wait for it – Boston Red Sox collar. Bet you didn’t see that one coming, huh?

He didn’t choose this particular collar, in fact, he much prefers a nekked neck, But because his human daddy is a diehard Sox fan, Fenway received, for his first Christmas in our fam, an official handy dandy Red Sox logo collar.

The catch: it didn’t fit. Fenway has a S neck and the smallest size in the store was M. But because Fenway’s human mama is a theme fanatic (and more to the point, the pricey collar was unreturnable), onto his skinny little neck it went.

Our first foray into the neighborhood with the new collar revealed a problem. With a duck of his head just so, Fenway could easily shuck the collar to pursue a taunting squirrel or passing bicycle or whatever captured his fancy at any given moment.

After the tenth screaming-meanie pursuit of said escaping dog by Alpha Mama (me), Fenway finally caught on that although he could buck the system at will, he shouldn’t if he wanted his yummylicious peanut butter & apple flavored doggie treat when we got home.

For him the reward was pure heaven.

So Fenway made a choice. He stopped ducking his head just so and opted to remain within the parameters imposed by his collar and leash. He wanted to run free, sure, but he wanted something else more.

You know, at some point in time we’ll all be treading in Fenway’s boots (or should I say paws?): we want to run free, but we want something else more. We crave Papa God’s smiling approval. Not His love, mind you, for we’ll have that anyway no matter how many squirrels we chase.

Yet we – as a child of God – yearn to feel our Papa’s pleasure when we make good choices. Choices resulting from our decision to delve into, hear and obey His Word.

So the next time a temptingly fuzzy squirrel whizzes by, I need to remind my trembling self of the thing I want even more: a proud pat on the head from Papa God.

For me the reward is pure heaven

How about you?

 

*Hey, dearest BBFF, a great new Too Blessed to be Stressed giveaway is right around the bend! Be sure to sign up for my FREE e-newsletter at DeboraCoty.com so you’ll be on the front row of all my breaking news. And oh do I have an exciting announcement coming up!