Feather

Our Golden Retriever puppy is now three months old and weighs close to twenty pounds.  He was six pounds when we got him and will be between sixty-five and seventy pounds when he is full grown.  He has outgrown his cute little cuddly puppy stage and passed into his hell-raising, chew it up, dig it up, tear it up, and pee on it phase.  In the last week alone we have witnessed the devastating demise of three 12″ playground balls, four pairs of tennis shoes, 1 decorative fall scarecrow, 2 rolls of paper towels, 2 cucumber plants (in what used to be a garden), 4 watermelon plants, and 3 carrot plants.  I am sure the casualty list will grow in the days and weeks ahead.

In spite of the destruction, the kids are really having fun with Feather these days.  Actually, I believe they kind of identify with each other.  One of their favorite games is “Ready, set, go!”  This is a homemade outside game where one person stands next to Feather and utters the words, “Ready…Set…Go!” and then takes off across the yard with Feather fast in pursuit.  When he was younger he could not catch them.  Now, he is nipping at their knees and trying to catch a loose t-shirt in his mouth so he can bring them to a halt.  He loves it and so do the kids, at least until he bites an arm or a leg by mistake.  That’s when they yell, “No! Feather!,”  and the game comes to an end.

From my desktop to yours, it’s another Alabama memory.

Resurrection is a beautiful thing!

When I was a younger man growing up in the northern part of Alabama I had a Golden Retriever named Feather.  I remember him with a warm heart even though I cannot bring to mind any specific tender tales to share at the moment.  My most vivid memory surrounds the end of Feather’s life.  He was thirteen and I was approaching my teens when he died.  The day I heard the news was one of the saddest I had ever experienced in my short time of existence.  I remember crying and hurting and hurting some more.  I guess his death really blindsided me.  Somehow I thought Feather would always be a part of my life, and now he was gone…forever.  I cried a lot that day.  I think I also learned a lot without really knowing it.  Maybe that is why I recently felt the need to honor the memory of my childhood companion by bringing him back from the dead.  No, I am not talking about performing a Christlike Lazarus moment.  Instead, I am speaking of turning a vague, shadowy, dearly held memory back into reality.

Three weeks ago my family and I went to a show breeder in southern Mississippi and picked up our seven-week old pet-quality male Golden Retriever puppy.  With too many smiles to count and more happiness than you can find in a lifetime, our new puppy has become a family member overnight.  It almost brings tears to my eyes as I think of my memory reborn and the joy he is already bringing to my children.  What’s his name you ask?  Why, of course, you already know.

It’s Feather.

From my desktop to yours, it’s another Alabama memory.