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February 28, 2003 - "Fluffy
Welcome to 2TheHeart!
"There is a universal truth I have found in my work. Everybody longs to be loved. And the greatest thing we can do is let somebody know that they are loved and capable of loving."
~Fred Rogers 1928-2003
A kind and gentle soul who will be deeply missed.
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BE UNFORGETTABLE! Learn how to make your writing snap, crackle and pop! Take our Creative Writing mini-workshop beginning March 3rd and you will learn to be a better, more creative writer! To sign up for this four-week workshop (Deadline is this TODAY!), register here: www.2theheart.com/writingworkshops
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Bob converted me! I don't even like poodles (sorry!), but by the time I was done with this story, I was ready to adopt one of my own!
"Fluffy"
by Bob Shaw
As a general rule, I'm a puppy and dog person, although I'm very fond of kittens, cats, and most other members of the animal family. One of our favorites was a little silver poodle named Fluffy.
Her master had been a good friend of the family for many years. We received a phone call one weekend telling us of her passing away, and the family had to try to find a new home for the little dog. We drove 150 miles, and found her in a small cage in the basement. She was in pretty rough shape, with only enough food and water to survive.
Ronni held her in her lap on the trip home, talking to her, and trying to reassure her that everything would be OK. From that time on, she belonged to her. The trip home went smoothly, but the next few days were pretty trying for everyone. Fluffy was so upset, she wouldn't let Ronni out of her sight.
Slowly but surely, Fluffy became the feisty little critter we remember so well. She was, from her stubby little tail, to her buck toothed little grin, Ronni's dog. And she took her position quite seriously. Even playing, if she thought some of us were hurting her master, she'd bite them.
Her first litter came about a year later. Everything went just like the book says, normal all the way. She started around two in the morning, and had four puppies. That afternoon, Fluffy brought one of them in to the living room, and laid it at Ronni's feet, sounding a slight whimper to let us know there was a problem. It had stopped breathing, and she did the only thing she could do; she took it to her master, who she believed could do anything.
As Ronni picked up the baby, she knew something was wrong. At once, she started rubbing it, trying to get the circulation going. She pushed on its little chest, and blew in to its tiny face to get it to breathing. This went on for several minutes. Just when she was ready to give up, I noticed Fluffy perking up. She'd heard something. Then a few moments later, we heard it too. The baby made a slight whimpering sound. It was alive!
After all these years, I still have an image of this moment in my mind. It's a picture of one mother, trying desperately to save the baby of another. I can remember thinking they were both keepers.
I've heard that animals aren't aware, or can't really understand what's going on around them, but I can still see the tear tracks running down that little dog's face.
For the next several days, she kept bringing the puppy in to be checked over. Ronni would look at it and assure Fluffy that it was alright. Then Fluffy would take it back and brood over them like there were no other puppies in the world.
A few weeks later, we received a phone call from a friend. They'd heard the story about the baby, and wanted to know if they could adopt it.
Things worked out well. Fluffy liked them, and the puppy was right at home with them. And for the next nine years, it was a constant companion and blessing in their lives.
Fluffy had two more litters of puppies. And each litter always had a puppy that she thought needed a little extra care. Of course, Ronni was always there to give it.
But, there was the day that she brought something in to be checked out. As I came in from work, Ronni was just a little visibly shaken. All I could get out of her was "she brought me a dead mouse..."
Fluffy stayed with us for many years. I have no doubt that she's waiting, just on the other side, in a place called The Rainbow Bridge.
Bob Shaw copyright 2003
Caperabbit@semo.net
Bob and wife Ronni live in Cape Girardeau, Missouri. They'd enjoy hearing from you, and hope you enjoy the story. You can find more of Bob's stories on our HeartWriters page! www.2theheart.com/HeartWriters
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The Letter Box:
Dear John Gaudet,
I am a teacher and sometimes I see children in my class who remind me of your story. It weighs heavy on my heart to see chidlren go without and the humiliation they go through as part of that. But at the same time, it's incredible the love and warmth I see in other children, like your little friend. Children have enormous capacity for kindness. Thank you for sharing your memory. You story was moving. Sincerely, Theresa B., CA
Dear John,
Because of my own childhood, I can relate to your stories. There are thousands of abused and neglected children in the world, and stories like yours help to raise awareness and can really make a difference. Keep up your writing - I look forward to it. God bless,
JB
Re: "Letter to God"
This was a great letter it just touched my heart in so many ways. i know it gave my eyes a good washing out they have needed for a while. hope to see more stories from pat soon. Steven
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