Gloria Ferris

Last month we lost our beloved Oatmeal.  Her time on earth was well spent–chasing squirrels, watching geese fly overhead, dressing up in the latest fashion trends, and very seldom without her sunglasses when Katie was around. Maureen posted a fitting obituary to the dog and Katie left a heartfelt comment, and me, I couldn’t say anything until now.

Our dear Oatie was a rescue dog.  She had the misfortune of being sired by a stolen dog.  Her breeder could not sell the pups nor did she want anyone to know that she had been taken in by a con artist.  She and her siblings were dropped off at the vet’s office with the instructions that they should be disposed off and the bill sent to the owner.

Luckily, one of the vet’s assistants convinced the owner to allow her to try to find homes for the dogs before carrying out the owner’s instructions.  So, Oatmeal came to our house to stay for just the price of shots.  I don’t really know whose dog she was, you know, how pets usually gravitate to one person in a family.  At any one time, you would find her asleep at anyone’s feet or following any one of us from room to room.

But probably she was Katie’s dog because they grew up together. Katie thought her dog looked just like a mantatee.  She was kind of slow and loving and she did have eyes like dark pools of water–yes, a very fitting description of our dog. 

She was a mechanical dog.  She loved to watch Tim repair things, watching every move intently.  She opened doors with her front paws.  She closed doors and drawers when they were left open even if you weren’t finished getting whatever you needed.  Although she was a Labrador Retriever and loved to watch the birds overhead, she never liked water. Swimming was not in her vocabulary.  She didn’t even like the rain.  Lucky for her, we weren’t a hunting family.

Katie named her Oatmeal because she was the color of Oatmeal and it was one of the names suggested for Frosty the Snowman in the animated cartoon of the same name. Little did we know at the time that over the years she would become lumpy just like Oatmeal.  There are so many good memories associated with this dog that this post could become a saga,  but the real reason for my post is not only for our dog but for any one who has ever lost a pet.

Our veternarian’s office sent us a sympathy card, but inside the card was the following poem based on a Norse legend.

  By the edge of a wood, at the foot of a hill,

is a lush green meadow where time stands still.

 Where the friends of man and woman do run,

   when their time on earth is over and done.

  For here, between this world and the next,

is a place where each beloved creature finds rest.

 On this golden land, they wait and they play,

till the Rainbow Bridge they cross over one day.

They romp through the grass, without even a care,

 until one day they start, and sniff at the air.

All ears prick forward, eyes dart front and back,

 then all of a sudden, one breaks from the pack.

   For just at that instant, their eyes have met.

    Together again, both person and pet.

So they run to each other, these friends from long past,

    the time of their parting is over at last.

   The sadness they felt while they were apart,

   has turned into joy once more in each heart.

  They embrace with a love that will last forever,

           and then, side-by-side,

         they cross over. . . .together,

    at Rainbow Bridge. 

Until we meet again, dear Oatmeal.