This Eulogy Is a Little Unusual, But . . .

I’ve never done a eulogy like the one now forming in my head.

The little old fellow whose death I heard about this afternoon was quite a character, and I hardly know how to put my impressions of him into words. Anyway, I won’t get to speak at his service. It’s already happened. He passed away around noon, and the burial took place this afternoon with just a few very dear friends in attendance.

But I’ve been thinking about the ol’ boy ever since my four-year-old granddaughter called to tell me that he’d died. We’re really gonna miss him.

A little perspective is called for here. The Bible tells us that God sees when even a sparrow falls. A crashed sparrow, on the whole scale of world tragedies, hardly tips the scales much. But God says that he sees. I’m guessing that means God also saw today when his world suddenly became one pug short of a full load of dogs.

Yes, the deceased was a dog, an old pug named Zig.

For this to be a really good eulogy, I should firm up some of the early details of Zig’s life. None of us know much about his early years. What we do know is that Randy Hall, the other favorite grandfather of my granddaughter, rescued him from the dog pound and brought him home years ago to his kids, Amy & Tyler. When Amy married my son Jeff, Zig came along.

Among his other hobbies, fishing was, in earlier days, a passion. Randy had a pond in the yard, and Zig loved to jump in and chase the fish. Zig actually ended up at the vet’s because too much fishing was causing fungus to grow between his toes.

When Jeff & Amy were expecting Brylan and were fixing up the house, you could see Zig’s mental wheels turning. He was sure the renovation was for him! “Oh, you shouldn’t have, but this is so thoughtful of you!” Then here came the baby. Oops!

But Zig soon fell in love with Brylan and she with him. She’d climb all over him, pull his ears, pet him, hug him, and he was fine with it all. As she got older, she’d grab his collar and lead him to the bedroom where she’d “read” him stories from her books. She’d dress him up in her Disney princess clothes, and he just strove pugfully onward and handled it fine.

As he got older, he began to cough and splutter and behave just like a little old man. I fully expected him to come around the corner Churchill-like with a smoking cigar in his mouth and holding a glass of Scotch.

Yes, he was a character, and I liked him a lot. After all, we both loved the same little girl. He was her “Ziggy-boy” and had personality to spare! And if you think it’s silly for a guy to eulogize a dog, well, sorry, but I don’t much care (and you’ve never had a really good dog).

I’m still thinking about God and sparrows. I’ve never been really close to any sparrows. But I sure thought a lot of a pug named Zig.