His name is Tank. He was given that name when he was chosen as a puppy, as he was the largest of the litter. It was as apropos then as it is now. That was 14 years ago. In his prime he weighed 110 pounds; as an elder that has diminished to 89 pounds, still a large animal.
Tank's family is on a camping trip. In times past he would have been included. Age has set in and with it some physical limitations. The logistics of navigating the camp site and trailer would be difficult for him and not practical, so he is visiting my house.
He loves going into the backyard, investigating the trails of animals which may have frequented during the night, lying on the cool grass.
There are two steps from the utility room to outside. Tank's hips are weakening and he has trouble hoisting his body up onto his back legs. Very carefully, he gauges placement of his paws as he works his way down, no small feat for an animal his size.
Coming back in is no easy matter for him either, as demands are placed on his front legs and upper body to get up the steps and through the door, his back legs unable to provide the necessary spring. I leave the back door open for him, and he comes up to the steps and stands, waiting for me to come and coax him, encourage him. He knows himself and, when the legs simply aren't working, he waits as I get a sling and place it underneath him. I have been so struck by his willingness and effort to work with me as I raise his front in the door and he is then able to get his back legs underneath him and step up and in.
I must present the disclaimer that I am not a dog person. There are some who are unable to live their lives without a dog. I am not one of them. Having said that, I must make an exception--and that would be Tank.
For the first two years of his life he had the exclusive attention of his owner and master. A God-send during a difficult time in life, they were the picture of "A Man and His Dog." With love and a firm hand Tank was taught the importance of manners, obedience, and how to be a gentleman.
The family grew--first a wife, an infant, and then another entered the household, and Tank was unsure of his status. He had lost the position of first priority, and it was evident he didn't understand what was happening. Jealousy is not in his nature, and he conceded to the change. With his body size and bulk there was the potential of plowing the little ones over, but he was always conscious of them and did his best to make way for them. Now 10 and 12, "Tankers" is the girls' best friend.
Watching one age is difficult, whether it be man or beast. Tank's abilities and capabilities have decreased since the last time he stayed with me. His body is wearing out. The days of chasing after a ball, swimming in the river, and running, running, running are in the past.
I am reminded of the phrase "aging gracefully." That is what Tank is doing. I watch him, and his intelligence and level of understanding is amazing, his disposition admirable. The dignity with which he is living his life at this stage is enviable, an example we humans can apply in our own lives. He copes with his restrictions and does so with a smile.
Because I'm not an animal person, I haven't seriously considered the place of animals in eternity, the next life. Tank has caused me to give that some serious thought. He has been such a gift to his family and those who come in contact with him, why wouldn't there be a place for him? I must say I don't know.
What I do know is that the Creator is One who cares about all of His creation, and that includes Tank. Without words, just by being, Tank has had an impact on many. He certainly has worked his way into my heart. Lessons learned from an animal, at the hand of God.
Tank, you are the best!
"Are not 5 sparrows sold for two pennies, and not one of them is forgotten before God."
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