THE STORY OF PATCHES McGHEE...JULY 29 2011.........

Patches McGhee was a dog.  We are a family of dog lovers, have had dogs since forever.  They become a part of the family.  Each and every dog has been special in our lives, but one in particular, Patches McGhee, was the exception.

She joined our family as a roly-poly fat little puppy.  Because she was multi-colored, she became Patches, I added the McGhee.  She was a mut.  As a full grown dog she was just about the strangest looking dog ever.  She had semi-long hair, her body was long, and square.  Her front legs were slightly shorter than her back legs, so she always appeared to be walking down hill.  Her back was wide and flat, you could put a dinner plate on her back and it would stay put.  She weighed in at about 35 pounds.

She was independent, also timid.  But if she thought any of us were in danger she became a little tiger, no one would harm her people!  She loved unconditionally and completely.  She loved running and playing outside, chasing rabbits, following us wherever we were, whether we were walking, working in the garden, or just sitting on the deck.  Patches was there, always with us.  He ears were longish, and would flop and flap as she ran.  She looked like a kite trying to take off.

As with a pet you get a vet. We have a great veterinary clinic in Claysville.  The only time any of our dogs have ever ridden with me in my van is to go to the vet.  Annual check-ups, shots, whatever, I seem to be the one elected.

I am also the one elected when their journey is over, and it is time to leave this world. 

Patches hated the vet with a passion.  As soon as the leash was attached and the car door opened, she tried to go the other direction.  It was an experience to get her into the van, you had to pick her up and shove her in and shut the door before she was out again. Once we started she would lay on the floor, trying to figure out how to get out of this predicament.

Arriving in town, it was a real contortionist's trick to vacate the van without her jumping out into the street, then getting the curb-side door opened, an inch at a time, to grab the leash before she hit the ground.  Then it was virtually drag her into the building.

Upon leaving the building she was perfectly capable of getting herself into the van, where she would sit on the seat watching the world go by.

Years went by, 10 - 12, maybe more.  Arthritis hit her hard.  Finally she could no longer get up without help.  Her appetite waned.  You could tell she was in great pain.  A call to the vet.  It is time. 

But this time was different.  She walked to the van and tried to jump in.  That had never happened before.  I lifted her into the car, and instead of laying on the floor she wanted on the seat.  I put her on the passenger seat, and she sat there all the way to town, watching her world go by.

Upon arriving, she actually managed to get out of the van by herself, then with head held high, tail pointing to the sky, she walked ahead of me, directly to the Vet's building.  She was dignity magnified.  By then the tears are coming, hot and heavy.  We were taken to "her" room, she was made comfortable, and within a few minutes she was gone.

I know, for a fact, that Patches McGhee knew it was her time, her earthly journey had come to an end, her new journey was about to begin.  She knew that she would be whole again, on the other side of the rainbow, where she would wait until her family re-joined her.

I will never forget her final walk, head held high, tail erect, walking true and steady to her destiny.  At that moment she was no longer the old crippled dog, but the young dog she once was. 

This was Patches McGhee.  Of all my dogs, she is the one I will always remember, her dignity and demeanor as she made her last journey.

If only humans could have the unconditional love and devotion that our dogs have, what a world it would be.  God Bless.