There’s No Place Like Home…There’s No Place Like Home!

5-9-13

     I had just made it to my hotel room after a long day of travel to arrive in Medellin, Colombia.  I connected to the Internet and the first note that my Mac Book received was the following…

“we came home today and buddy was gone......................it was sad and we did not have any warning”

No caps…no punctuation…no period…but I got the message loud and clear.  Buddy was gone and our home would not be the same without him.

     Mary Ashley bought Buddy as a puppy some three years ago.  Even then, as an eight week old, he had that big head and full chest that are characteristic of English Boxer breed.  Buddy quickly became a permanent fixture in our home when Mary Ashley moved back in and started travel nursing.  We bought him a collar that would let him go out only so far around the property and he learned quickly where those invisible boundary lines were.  At break neck speed, he would take off toward the front of the property to chase away a squirrel or two, only to suddenly stop, plowing up gravel with his big feet, in order to avoid being zapped by his invisible reprimander. 

     419 Woodland Dr. became Buddies domain.  He was free to go as far as he dared until a small beep, which I can barely hear, would send shivers of fear throughout his tree stump shaped body. 

     Buddy, at an early age, chewed everything and anything.  He has chewed shoes left in stairways, rocking chairs arms and feet, the bases of the columns on our home, plants, coolers, tires, water hoses, new cell phones left by UPS and more.  His love of wood, any kind of wood, has earned him the nickname…Buddy the Beaver.  Giving Buddy a piece of wood to chew is like sitting me in front of a large supply of fresh boiled peanuts…there just isn’t enough time.  His eyes literally roll back in his droopy sockets as he chews large pieces of wood into a slobbery pulp.

     Buddy, a big baby at heart, has never met a stranger but puts on a great show for us as he tries to prove that he is the guard dog of 419 Woodland Dr.  He is fearless in chasing moles and digging craters to capture them, only to stop and tenderly sniff his newfound friends.  There is no better chaser of squirrels or bumblebees that cross into his territory.  He looks impressively dangerous, as he stands as tall as possible, barking deeply at passersby on the street some hundred-fifty feet away. 

     The people walking on the street have no idea that if they stepped toward him, he would turn and run as fast as his short legs can take him to some safe shelter where he thinks he can’t be found. 

     Buddy is also the defender of the six prissy hens that lay eggs in their chicken coop condo.  Even though the hens must know he cannot reach them, he sends the girls into a flurry of chicken feathers and poo as he rushes the pen when first let out of the house in the morning, bumping his big chin against their chicken wire walls.  He is relentless in his pursuit to prove he is something that he is not…but he is a charm.

     Mary Ashley and Jason told us of their intention of taking Buddy to his new home…their new home.  We fought some and tried to reason with them, but facts were facts and Buddy was theirs…even though he felt like ours.  We would argue that we had practically raised him, taking him to doctor appointments, putting medicine in his ears, feeding him, washing him, and worst of all…falling in love with him.  Buddy had become a part of our family.

     He knew how to make his way around this place.  Eric, the UPS man would miss him.  We wondered how we would cope with not having Buddy follow us around from room to room.  We wondered how he would feel in a strange place, across town, in a new neighborhood with new sounds and new people and other dogs that might take him serious when he half-heartedly barks at them.  We wondered these things and even began to talk about him really not leaving us.  That maybe they had decided to just leave him with us since he was such a big important part of our lives and the life of 419 Woodland Dr.

     I first saw the note from Cindy and felt sick to my stomach…and I was not even there to realize that a part of our lives had been taken…rightfully so…Buddy was theirs…but sure felt like ours…and now he was gone.  But not for long.

     Mary Ashley and Jason had posted a photo of Buddy on his nice new bed in their nice new home.  It was the saddest photo of a dog in a place where people loved him to death and wanted him with them in their new home.  He had all the comforts of home…but was not comfortable at all…he missed home…his home…419 Woodland Dr.  Here is the rest of the story.  Where God taught me and can teach you through Buddy and his desire to be home.

     My daughter Emily was at our home when Buddy was brought back.  She said that he jumped out of the car and went berserk.  He ran around like a kid in the park.  He circled the house at break neck speeds and turned on a dime and circled the deck.  He ran and said hello to the chickens…the riding lawn mower…the squirrels…he peed in the bushes and kept on running around until he could run no more…and then he crashed.  Cindy told me that he stayed the rest of the day and night in his own bed.  I am not sure whether he stayed in his own bed because of the emotional drain or because of fear of being removed from what he calls home.  Home is important…even to an English boxer named Buddy…and will be to you and me.

     When we get home…our true home…no one will be able to contain us.  We too will run around and see all the things that will be familiar to us…all the things…because it is home.  The places we live in now and the places we go to now are going to pass…but home never will.  Home, our heavenly home, will always be that and there will be no mistaking it for some other place…no matter how comfortable we try to make it.  Then we will truly say…There is no place like home…There is truly no place like home.