Mind the House, Kaeli

On Saturday, May 2, 2015 I had to say goodbye to the most loving, most loyal friend I have ever known this side of heaven.

Kaeli was the best dog ever. 

A million little moments remind me of her every day. When I wake up in the middle of the night and have to use the bathroom, I think I have to be careful to not disturb her. Then I look at her empty bed lying on the floor.

When the morning sun shines in through my window, I open my eyes, expecting to see Kaeli's goofy, tongue-lolling smile as she rolls onto her back - her request for a belly rub. But she is not there.

When I come home I think I should hear her waiting in anticipation on the other side of the door as I take off my coat. But there is no wagging tail, no clunking of a treasured bone as she brings it to me as her special way of saying, "I give you my everything; there is nothing I treasure more than you." The bigger the bone she brought seemed to indicate how much she had missed us.

When I finish my meal there is no happy face, eager to lick my plate. When I feed the cats in the morning, she is not there to clean off their dishes when they have eaten their fill. When we go out for ice cream, she isn't there to make us laugh at how fast she can down a cone.

This morning I took her dish and held it to my chest for a while before I put it away. There are signs of her all around me - her blankets, her beds, her treats, her almost new bag of kibble and her little doggie wheelchair that we got only six weeks ago. I know we have to do something with all of these things....

When the vet gently put her to sleep, Kaeli looked into my eyes. Even after we were told that she was gone, her heart had ceased to beat, she kept her eyes fixed on me. They were still filled with light, with trust and with love. Her spirit was still there. She didn't know how to leave.

Whenever we would go out we used to tell Kaili, "Mind the house" and she was immediately at peace. She knew that meant we would be coming back. So I told her,

"It's okay Kaeli. You don't have to take care of us any more. We'll be okay. You mind the house with Jesus and we'll see you when we get there."

Then her eyes glazed over and I knew her spirit had left.

Jesus said, "In my Father's house are many mansions. I go to prepare a place for you."

My mansion will be filled with cat trees, bird perches and dog beds for a lifetime of beloved pets that have gone before me. But waiting right beside Jesus at my front door will be Kaeli, with the biggest bone in her mouth that she can carry.

"Mind the house, Kaeli. I'll see you when I get there."