Last Tuesday Woody went off on one of his usual trysts, but never made it back home to us alive. We aren't really sure what happened but we think that he got hit by a car. This seems like the most mundane way for him to die considering all that we have been through with him.
Woody was a big baby of a dog....we would have surely been in trouble had we gotten him to be a watch dog....one bark and then he would have been the foe's best friend. He was so friendly and easy going. He got car sick almost every time we took him anywhere, so, he usually only got to go to the vet and back. Shortly after we got him (when he was about 6 wks old) we found out that he had Parvo. The vet said that he would die but we declared that he was going to live (in Jesus' name) and he did. Then we wanted to kill him because he ate EVERYTHING in the house.....thankfully he got over that stage and became the loveable mutt that just plopped down on the floor wherever we were at and watched us. We loved him and he loved us. He will be greatly missed.
I am very thankful that we found him. Both when he was a puppy and now that he has gone on to doggy heaven (I know, maybe not theologically sound to some people, but I choose to believe he will be in heaven when we get there). Our lives held little extra fun, a whole lot more love, and a bundle more chaos; and, I'm glad to know that (since he for whatever reason died) he is buried in the back yard rather than alone in a place where we would have never found him.
Matthew 5:4
"Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted"
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