Foley's Tales From Rainbow Bridge: Teddy

 

Teddy, in his later years, quite late actually, since he stayed on the mortal side for 16 years, dreamed of his youth, when he could fly, or at least so it seemed. Teddy was a well-awarded agility dog who, for years, performed with his mom, happily jumping through hoops, between cones, over the see-saws, and through tunnels. It was, except for when he was getting attention from his family, the time he felt most alive.

         He had heard the term, once at the vet’s when a doctor was marveling over his age, that he was experiencing his golden years, but it sure didn’t feel that way. He felt tired and achy; there was nothing golden about that.e

         But he still got attention from his parents, and he felt like a pup again in those moments.

         Which is why he was in no hurry to leave. He had thought that, while his litter mates and equally aged friends had gone to the Bridge, he was still mortal, like someone who gets skipped over during a draft for no explicable reason. But Teddy didn’t bark a peep, happy to be, as he always is exceptional.

         But no mortal soul can hold off their final destination for so long. Teddy slowed down and was tired until his parents decided to remove their hearts, joy, contentment, and love. Sadly, Teddy went as well.

         Teddy moved like a senior dog when he slowly climbed out of the River of Life within wagging distance of Rainbow Bridge. He sighed, resigned that he was an orphan, although one with visiting privileges, at least in his parent's dreams.

         As  Teddy walked across all, the pain, rigidity, and stiffness were lifted from his body like a coat on a cold day. When he put his feet onto Doggyspace village, where all his friends and members of his pack, Ebbie and Moss, awaited, he felt young again.

         Slowly, at first, he began to run. He was unsteady at first, not trusting that the old body, which had started failing him long ago, was renewed, as were his lungs. For the first time in years, Teddy ran.

         As he did, he barked in joy. All aging athletes dream of one more day at the top of their game. Teddy wasn’t getting one more day. He was getting all the time in the world.

         For Teddy, there would be a time for reuniting with those who preceded him at the Bridge, for remembering and watching over his parents and his psycho brother Willie, for visiting them in dreams. As small flying creatures, but for now, Teddy was running again; his soul was singing a happy song.

         None of us minded. Watching Teddy run was like hearing an unfinished sympathy performed by a classical orchestra uninterested in finding the ending. It was simply beautiful.