Pawly meets St. Peter the Poodle at the Pearly Dogbone Gates of Canine Heaven:

St. Peter the Poodle: “Welcome to Canine Heaven, Pawly.”

Pawly: “Whoa! We talk up here? OH MY GAWD I JUST SPOKE!”

St. Peter the Poodle: “Yes, my dear. I like your collar.”

Pawly: “Oh, this? Yeah, if red’s your thing. I prefer to go au naturelle whenever possible.”

St. Peter the Poodle: “Yes, we know. Would you like to check it at the gate, then?”

Pawly: “Is there a charge for collar check? My mom always had the purse…”

St. Peter the Poodle: “No, no. No charge. So, would you like to come inside?”

Pawly: “Well, yes, but you haven’t said the magic words.”

St. Peter the Poodle: “Oh! Very sorry. *ahem* ‘Pawly, in the house?!’ …is that right?”

Pawly: “Yes, thank you. Will there be a bone waiting for me inside?”

St. Peter the Poodle: “Oh, there’s much more than that. We have a grassy field, and there’s a guy named Doug who has volunteered to come play ball with you once a day. Better be careful while you run, though: This orange tabby who calls himself ‘Squeaker’ told me that he plans to jump on you when you least expect it.”

Pawly: “I see… Well, he should remember that I’m not afraid to give ‘im a little toss–”

St. Peter the Poodle: “–but, when you’re done playing ball we have a nice little place for you to rest, complete with air vent, blanket, bones to chew on, and a wool rug for you to roll around on if your back gets itchy.”

Pawly: “Is there anything for me to do if I don’t feel like playing ball?”

St. Peter the Poodle: “My, I almost forgot! There is a pond for you to swim in, and if you’re feeling adventurous you can climb the Shrubby Hill of Empty Diet Mountain Dew Bottles or squeeze into the Cave of Tantalizing Cheese Smells.”

Pawly: “You don’t happen to have any garbage cans, do you?”

St. Peter the Poodle: “No… Why?”

Pawly: “It’s not important–Go on…”

St. Peter the Poodle: “…Yes, yes. So, there are other dogs you might like to meet while you are here. A shepherd mix named Nelcie is very anxious to challenge you to a doggy-paddle contest–”

Pawly: “–ah, I think I’ve heard of her before. Energetic gal, right? Do you think she’d be up for some tug-o-war?”

St. Peter the Poodle: “Well, you never know unless you ask, right?”

Pawly: “Guess so… Hey, one request…”

St. Peter: “Anything you like, Pawly.”

Pawly: “Well, there’s this blue persian named Sam I used to like hanging out with… Is he around?”

St. Peter the Poodle: “Oh, yes. Let’s go find him now…”

Pawly: “Wait. Wait. Not so fast. I’m not going in there unless we’re sure that my family gives their permission. I mean, sure I went a lot of places I wasn’t supposed to back when I was on Earth. But I figured this time it’s a little more serious. I mean, I didn’t hear anyone whistle or anything, but I just want to be sure…”

St. Peter the Poodle: “I understand. Tell you what: If you hear any of them whistle, you can go back anytime you like.”

Pawly: “Really?!”

St. Peter the Poodle: “Absolutely. There is a catch, however.”

Pawly: “I’m listening…”

St. Peter the Poodle: “Good girl. So, when you go back, you can’t show yourself. You can only keep them company by being with them in spirit. And you can’t stay too long, or else Squeaker will eat your dinner. Dinner in Heaven is at 4pm, and you won’t want to miss it.”

Pawly: “That sounds reasonable.”

St. Peter the Poodle: “Okay?”

Pawly: “Yeah, okay.”

St. Peter the Poodle: “Okay, then. Now, let’s go get the kitty…”

Pawly is in Heaven. She passed away in her sleep while receiving treatment for pancreatitis; of an aneurysm resulting from a failing heart. The two conditions were unrelated, and her death was a pretty big shock to all of us.

Or was it? I believe strongly that a pet will choose their time to die. Pawly was not in the best of health this past year, but her sense of duty to my family kept her moving despite her failing hind legs, breathing despite the endless panting. But even though she seemed to be feeling poorly, Pawly wasn’t ready to leave my family yet.

She had to see them pass into a new chapter of their lives. She wanted to know that they could be happy without her. But first, she had to see the countryside her family called home before she came along. And Pawly loved it! She got to run through fields of sage brush, smell the fresh air of two mountain ranges, see her first cows and horses and llamas… Through those experiences, Pawly became revitalized. And she learned how to have fun again because she could sense our happiness.

So in the days running up to her death, Pawly took car rides willingly and climbed and sniffed up and down rocky hillsides. She even went without her pain medicine for two weeks; before the move across the country she needed two doses a day to fight the inflammation in her hips. She lost 15 lbs, quit panting almost entirely, and her raw, cracked nose completely healed to its youthful softness.

But Pawly’s time with my family was drawing to a close. Suddenly she became violently ill and had to be taken to the doctor. Amazingly, she was calm through the examination and even seemed to like the young man who was treating her. Pawly used to lose her mind when taken to the veterinarian in South Carolina. Maybe all that traveling had made her a more worldly and emotionally resilient dog. Or maybe she was relieved that Mom wouldn’t have to see her suffer–see her die.

In the wee hours of the morning of November 1st, Pawly said goodbye to my family and this world. She spent 12 years being Mom’s Shadow, Dad’s garage guardian, Latice’s ‘Poo, and my living toy. We will talk about her for the rest of our lives, because she was more than a dog for us. She was, and will forever be, our furry heart.

What was Pawly to you? Write a comment to share your favorite Pawly story.