I am finding that being here at the Bridge is a little like being on the Twilight Zone.
One night, when I was on the Earthly side, I had all my friends over to my Leopard Skin Vagina Kitty Condo and we watched an episode where Jack Klugman was a pool shark who wanted to be the greatest of all time and ended up beating a ghost who had been considered the greatest, and now Jack Klugman was. But, for the rest of eternity, whenever a bell rang, a weary Jack Klugman had to get up and answer the challenge of being the greatest of all time.
Here at the Bridge, when a bell sounds, I have to wearily put on my robe and make my way to the top of the Bridge Stairs to see which one of my friends had broken their families’ hearts by having their time on Earth expire. My joy at seeing my friends is fractured by the pain I know their families are feeling.
Lately, having had so many friends join me, I am growing reluctant to look down the Bridge. On this day I saw Hans slowly making his way up the stairs. Like Atlas, Fella, and all dogs who come here, with each step he grew healthier and stronger, and with each gaze at the beauty surrounding the Bridge I could see the pain of leaving his family ease, and the good memories grow stronger.
But beyond the Bridge I can feel the sadness from his family and friends. It blows my tiny robes like the wind and the cries sound like the birds that fly overhead. I don’t know if every dog can hear or if it just fades to the background over time, but it’s there.
The doctors had told his Mom that he would have to go to the Bridge on July 5. But Hans put up such a fight, eating, wagging his stub, and not letting any sign of pain show, that she decided to take it day by precious day and enjoy every extra moment they had with him.
Hans was such a fighter. I fought to give my parents one more day with me, Hans fought to give his parents almost a week. He used every ounce of life he had in his soul to stay with his Mom. Has was suffering from an infection and pancreatitis.
He spent most of the day lying on cool tile, but he would occasionally get up to give a tail wag and eat some food.
But he wasn’t suffering, his family would not let him suffer, he was enjoying life, like an aged human who is confined to a hospital bed, knowing the end is nigh, but surrounded by family, keen enough to share stories, love and laugh. And, like the humans surrounding the hospital bed, Hans’ family knew that every day, hour, minute, was a blessing. And they all basked in the love of everyone on DS and Facebook. His family said: ”I want everyone to remember the crazy dog who dressed up for every holiday with turkey legs on his head, sunglasses and top hats and we hope made everyone smile.” A dog who wanted, even while passing to the Bridge, everyone to keep smiling. Now that sounds like a special dog.
Like so many of us dogs Hans’ heart gave out before his soul. He began bleeding a great deal and suffering which his Mom could not have. She began the process of sending Hans to the Bridge, and at that moment my bell rang, calling me to the top of the stairs. When Hans reached my post the first thing he said to me, knowing my blogs reach the human world, was “make sure they pray for my family,” and I assured him I will.
He is happy now, pain free, his body, after dealing with two different cancers, is young and functioning fine. His days are mostly filled with fun, although I have asked him to advise me on some important Bridge matters. He asks you all not to feel sorrow for him, the Bridge is really just on the other side of the wall from Earth, sadly, a wall with no entry.
And he wants his family to know that someday, simultaneously much too soon and too far away, everyone will be together again, and truly happy.