In our big extended family we all claim Eli as our own. He’s a beautiful Yellow Lab, who was as gentle as he was playful.
Let me tell you a story about how much of a family member Eli was.
One day I drove up the long, long driveway of the Shire (homes we built for family members fifteen years ago) and stopped next to the large common area where children play and adults sit around enjoying the shade of the trees and each other’s company.
I got out of the car and immediately five grandchildren climbed down from the trampoline and ran over, formed an orderly line, in order to give grandpa a hug. I looked down the line and noticed that the third person in line was Eli. He didn’t crowd out the younger children. He stood quietly and politely waiting his turn. When his time arrived, he gently climbed up and put his two front legs around my neck. Responding, I gently put my arms around him and hugged him back. After a couple seconds he climbed down and walked off like the others.
That was a moment of amazing grace for me. This dog was a family member as much as any of us were. That family solidarity showed up once again at his funeral.
The service was held in a beautiful quiet place in the Shire under big gentle shade trees that were small sprouts when Eli was born. Amber (mom), Gretta (daughter), and Cheri (“Emee”), the day before the funeral, had neatly trimmed the bushes, raked whatever leaves were there, and smoothed out the bed area around the eventual grave site.
As the procession started ten children and adults carried ElI, who was wrapped in a soft blue flannel sheet, to his resting place.
There was crying. There were eulogies. There was singing. There was the moment Eli was placed into his resting place, and finally there was a gentle prayer of goodbye.
We were directed by a family member to let his head and body be shown as we all took turns filling in the grave.
That was a moment of repose for me. His head and legs and body were perfectly placed in the grave. I will never forget his beautiful yellow gold coat.
All the cousins stood there either hugging or consoling one another. It was hard crying over the loss of the dog they cared for as long as they have been alive. For Eli (almost fifteen) was living on the Shire before they came into the world. Eli loved them. They cared for him. And loved him back. They knew nothing else but Eli.
Amber (the mom) was the closest person to Eli. Food, vets, bathing, walking, surgeries, toenail clippings, and most of all directly caring for Eli in his last days: that was Amber. She even took him around the neighborhood in a wagon when he no longer could walk.
Amber made sure everyone had an opportunity to say goodby one last time. Cousins, nieces, nephews, brothers, sisters, husbands and wives were with Eli as he slowly slipped into his final sleep. They washed him one last time, trimmed his coat, took his paw prints, and picked up and placed him in a large container with ice to keep him fresh for the funeral in two days.
The quality of the human soul is no greater than the quality of one’s care and love for their animals.
Those who took part in preparing Eli for burial, carrying him to the gravesite, digging the grave, giving small talks, singing, praying, and burying Eli were: Danny, Amber, Robbie, Gretta, Will, Elisa, Max, Erin, Dallin, Roger Jr., Cameron, Harry, Ruby, Cheri and Roger Sr.
Goodbye you handsome, kind, and “polite” family member.
