One of the most important lessons that animals have taught me is that we never know how much our kindness means to others. What seems to us at the time as an insignificant act can have a big impact in the life of the recipient of that act.
Apache and his friend, Pooter
Four and a half years ago, I needed some extra cash for the holidays. I found an ad on craigslist. Someone needed their dog washed every day for three weeks.
Apache was a German Shepherd that was all knees and elbows. He was a big boy, skinny and nervous. His skin had erupted into a protest of scabs and hair loss. He wasn’t so much Apache as he was just “patchy”.
There was a time in his family when he had been cherished, but now they had a one-year-old human baby, so Apache and the family’s other dog, Chinook, spent most of their time in the basement of the house, with a few little trips outside to a small backyard.
Apache and I quickly made the deal that he’d get into my bathtub if I fed him goldfish crackers. We had to wait for 15 minutes while the shampoo worked its magic. He was such a good boy. He’d sit there in the tub, by himself, watching me read a book.
I wasn’t a conscious animal communicator at this point, but with Apache, I enjoyed a quiet and easy camaraderie. When the three weeks was up, on our last day together, I stuffed that dog full of crackers, told him that I was going to miss him, and dropped him off at his house.
A few months later, Apache’s owners called me. He had nipped at their son when the baby grabbed Apache’s ears. Did I know of anyone who would want a 5-year-old German Shepherd?
Enter Loulie and Brannon, good friends of ours who were just getting over the loss of their husky. This very happy second chapter in Apache’s life lasted four years. He went for walks every day, to the hardware store for treats or along the river at Oaks Bottom with his beagle friend, Polly. He loved to chase kites on the beach, and roll in freshly washed laundry.
Like all dogs, he made a few questionable choices. He took a few bites out of an expensive Turkish rug. He and Polly ate a rotting salmon, and while the rockgut beagle was fine, Apache spent a week at Dove Lewis Hospital.
But, for the most part, he was just Apache, big and silly, with a smile for everyone. I saw him every week, after bowling. He’d gently take a snausage from my fingers, unlike his sister, Polly, who liked to eat her snausages with a side of fingers.
A few weeks ago, Apache was the victim of gastric torsion. His stomach flipped inside his large chest. Although gastric torsion can be a painful way to go, Apache seemed at peace. He died that night, in his sleep, with his mom lying on his dog bed with him.
We can take heart in knowing that when our pets die, they aren’t gone. Their souls live on. Sometimes they visit us in spirit form. We will see them again, either as a different incarnation in this life, or when we pass over ourselves.
When I got the call that Apache had passed away, I reached out to say goodbye. He was very sad to go. It was his time, he said. He had another job to do, but he didn’t want to leave his family, especially his mom.
Most of the time, animals are at peace with their deaths. They know that life is temporary, and that they will be with us again soon. Apache understood that he had to go, but didn’t want to. This was the first time and only time that I had ever heard this from a pet that had passed over.
When we think about our pets who have passed away, don’t we want to imagine them happy on the other side? Many call it the “rainbow bridge”. We don’t want them pining for the life they had here.
We talked for about 15 minutes, about how much he had enjoyed his life, and how much he was going to miss his family. As we were wrapping up our goodbyes, he said, “Thank you for those goldfish crackers. You came at a time when I needed a friend.” He showed me a picture of himself in his first home, how lonely and hopeless he had felt.
I was surprised. I had no idea that those little crackers could mean so much to a dog. They were bribes to get him into the bathtub. They pale in comparison to the four years of love that Apache shared with Loulie and Brannon.
And yet, they came at a time when he wasn’t loved, when he was tolerated because he had, by no fault of his own, outgrown his welcome.
A tiny kindness can have a great impact. As you go out into the world today, please know that your kindness matters. We can’t know the effect that we have on each other, but sometimes a small act of kindness means the world.
