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December
1, 2006
He
first saw Mazy while on the job with the gas company. He had driven
past an auto body parts business and she was running inside a small
enclosure she was fenced in. There was no grass in the pen --
only dirt and a metal feeding dish.
Every
time a vehicle drove by, she'd run with it, smiling, tail wagging,
until she hit the back fence. She'd then bounce around and run to
the other end.She seemed frantic to find a friend in the passing
cars. Her behavior haunted Terrence, so after he finished his call
he drove by the business, hoping to speak with the owners about
the dog. The office was closed for the lunch hour.When he got back
to the office, he dialed the business and spoke with the receptionist.
He learned that the dog was kept there all the time and had been
there for just under a year. He told the receptionist that should
the owner decide to get rid of the dog, he would love to be notified.
Two
weeks before Christmas Terrence got a phone call.The owners of the
auto parts yard had sold the business. They could no longer keep
the Black Lab. Did he still want her?
* * *
She came home as an early Christmas gift. She had never been given
a name. Tammy named her Mazy. Tammy had hung a stocking on the mantelpiece
for Mazy and come Christmas morn, Mazy quietly walked over to the
stocking filled
with doggie goodies, and gently pulled it off the hook. She then
padded over to Terrence and held the stocking out for him.
Terrence
thought Mazy wanted him to pull the little doo-dads out of the stocking
so she could have them. So, Terrence took the stocking and laid
it on the floor, tipping out some of the contents, then sat back
so he could watch Mazy enjoy her gifts.
To
his surprise, Mazy nosed the items that had rolled out, back into
the stocking, then she gripped the stocking in her teeth and handed
it back to Terrence. Her gift to him.
When
Terrence glanced over at his wife they both chuckled while at the
same time blinking back happy tears. The true gift that Christmas
had been the welcoming of Mazy into their family.
Blessed
with a loving, giving spirit, Mazy became a therapy dog, at the
urging of Mazy's obedience trainer Doug -- a close family friend.
Doug volunteered with a group from the local SPCA and every Thursday
they visited one of the convalescent hospitals.Mazy was a natural
in the art of caring and brightening
the spirits of the residents they visited. She became very popular
and had attracted the interest of the press.
During
the Christmas holidays, a year ago, a local television station did
a special on therapy dogs and the benefits they bestow on patients
in care facilities. Mazy was the star of the show and had garnered
an even greater following.
Soon
after, while Terrence was at work and Tammy was out on errands,
someone broke the lock on the backyard gate. When Tammy got home,
Mazy was gone.
All efforts to locate her were unsuccessful and the loss of their
gentle fur girl was a wound that dug deep into their hearts.
* * *
Tammy nudged her husband. "Come on into the family room. I
have two steaming mugs of chocolate and Irish Cream waiting for
us in front of the fireplace. You can build a fire and we will relax
before the guests arrive later."
Terrence
followed his wife into the room. From the stack of wood near the
hearth he prepared the fireplace. As he bent over he heard that
familiar sound of nails and paws on wood. He shook his head, just
as a weight dropped on his shoulders and back. Tammy gasped loudly
and Terrence spun around.Mazy, covering his face with sloppy kisses
and doggy-breathed pants. Terrence threw his arms around his fur
girl.It was a dream. A dream, surely.He heard the rustling of paper
at his ear and drew back. There in Mazy's collar was a handwritten
note.
Terrence sat back on his heels, gazed into Mazy's warm brown eyes.
A cold draft filled the room. The front door was ajar, the porch
light on. The sound of a car pulling out of their driveway.
Tammy
took the note and as she began to read, Terrence sank his hands
into the warm ruff of Mazy's neck and hugged her long, and well.
* * *
"I have a feeling your Christmas just got merrier, and mine
a little sadder. Over six years ago my wife, Donna, found an ebony
colored pup on our doorstep. She doted on her and the pup became
a member of our family. "As the pup grew, she'd often disappear
for days at a time. Frantic at first, we would chase after her,
search for her everywhere. Each time we'd find her in the company
of a human
who, for various reasons, was in need of a friend. She did this
so often we started calling her Chasy. One day she did not return."Eighteen
months ago Donna was diagnosed with advanced Alzheimers.
"On
Christmas Day last year your Black Lab scratched on our front door.
She looked so much like our Chasy. I started calling her by that
name. She and my wife were inseparable until her death three days
ago.
"After
the funeral, Chasy took a small Christmas stocking off the mantel,
came over and laid i t in my lap. She whimpered, then trotted to
the front door and scratched at it to be let out."I opened
the door. Chasy walked over to the hedges
and began digging. In a few moments she returned -- a dirty collar
in her
mouth. She then made soft talking sounds and dropped the collar
at my feet.
"As I picked it up I noticed two grimy tags -- a license tag
and an ID tag. Mazy... I couldn't believe it. Her name so like our
Chasy's. I looked from the tag to the Black Lab before me. Mazy's
expression went from hopeful to wistful.
"Mazy
leaned into me, her weight against my legs like the embrace of an
old friend. She looked up at me and I knew her visit was over --
she wanted to go home. "I had cleaned her collar and the tags
jingled brightly as I slipped it over her head. I then bent down
and sobbed into her shiny fur.
"It
was a quiet ride for the two of us, as I drove to your place. When
I reached over to open the door to let Mazy out, she nudged my wrist,
licked my hand and sighed."In my sadness and grief, I had forgotten
this letter. I pulled the note out of my shirt pocket to write the
final words. I finished and glanced at Mazy. She extended her head,
urging me to place the note in her collar as we had practiced.
"Thank
you, from a stranger who's been warmed by sunlight, wrapped in the
shiniest black fur I have ever seen. Welcome her well. When you
hug her, please hug her for me. I couldn 't do so to say good-bye
for fear I'd not let her go."
* * *
"Do you still have her stocking?" Terrence asked his wife.
"I
sure do," her answer, tearful. She then gave a faint smile
as tears spilled from her eyes.
Mazy
wagged her tail, uttered a whine of understanding. She turned to
look back at the front door, still ajar, and sighed.Both of her
humans were sniffling, talking in soft voices, and watching their
fur girl.
"Are
you happy to be home, girl?"Mazy padded over to the front door,
stepped up to it, then turned so that her rump brushed heavily against
the wood, shutting
the door.Mazy trotted over to her humans, stood between them and
hung her head. Terrence and Tammy gratefully bent over and embraced
her.
Mazy's long powerful tail began wagging fiercely and a smile graced
her ebony face.
Out
front, parked across the street from the couple's home, a man thought
fondly of his wife and of the blessing that had graced their lives
the past year in the form of a shiny Black Lab.Before driving away
for good, he lifted his head and
gave thanks to God.
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