She appeared one day about 15 years ago under one of our parked cars in the driveway of our parsonage at Friendship UMC in Lexington. She was a beautiful dog, a mixed breed, perhaps with a bit of Eskimo Spitz, some Terrier, with probably a few other varieties in her ancestry as well.
With 12 year old Matthew and 3 year old Casey, we called to the stranger beneath the car. Smiling (we all know dogs smile...) and wagging her tail, she sheepishly made her way to us. Still a bit unsure, a bit cautious, but hoping we would love her half as much as she was determined to love us, she came to us and fell into our arms.
She was home.
When it was clear to everyone that I would be no match for the exuberant, shouted questions of "can we keep her", Matthew thought it best to ask her what she would like to be called. She let out a fairly coherent answer in the form of a bark, "ralllph!"
She had a home, and we had our first family dog. Her name was Ralph.
I'm not sure if she fully realized the implications of appearing underneath a car parked in the driveway of a parsonage that day. But, like the rest of us, she became an Itinerant United Methodist. With the gentlest of canine dispositions she watched over her family throughout our remaining years at Friendship in Lexington, all our years at Centenary in Clemmons, and over 7 years at Rock Grove in Salisbury.
It was always fascinating to watch her settle into a new environment. She would walk the unfamiliar yard, nose held high, a bit unsure for the first few days. But, like her family, home came to be less about where she was and more about who was with her.
She played the role of watch-dog well. Though never aggressive toward visitors, no car pulled in the driveway without her giving us a heads up bark. And of course, whenever we pulled into the driveway, we would be greeted with a wagging-tail welcome!
One of my favorite memories of Ralph will be those rare occasions when we would have a few inches of snow. Sometimes we would bring her inside on very cold days, or during times of snow and storms. I always loved watching her run out in the snow with the excitement and fascination of a child, as she would run with her nose through the snow, grab a mouth-full of the cold fluffy stuff and run through the yard ready to play.
We've had a good many pets over the years. At the moment, there's the two guinea pigs, one fish, an inside dog, Dobby, and Dalia (Dolly) the cat. In fact, the team of Ralph, Dobby and Dolly has often paralleled the trio of furry friends (one older dog, one puppy and one cat) in the "Homeward Bound" movies. I've enjoyed my morning devotions on many occasions surrounded by all three, either at my feet or on my lap.
But there will always be something quite special about Ralph. She was the pet that helped us raise our children. When Matthew (now 27) and Casey (now 17), remember the days of their childhood and youth, specifically their childhood pets, I suspect Ralph will top the list for them both.
The last few months have not been easy for Ralph. Though she didn't appear to be in any pain, and she continued to eat, she has gradually been growing weaker in body and mind. There have been a couple of occasions when we thought the time had come for us to make the difficult decision to have her euthanized. But each time she would rally, and we would all feel a sense of relief, though we knew where the road was leading.
With each close call, we've become more intentional about spending time with her, giving her special treats (she loved sandwich turkey), brushing and bathing her.
I had made a point to brush her every day of late, gradually making some pretty good headway to rid her of some of the pesky fur she needed to shed. Kathy gave her a bath on Wednesday.
On Thursday she was gone.
I was away attending the Festival Gathering of the Network of Biblical Storytellers on Thursday, Matthew was in Boone, where he now lives, and Casey was kayaking with friends at the New River when Kathy called me Thursday to tell me she couldn't find Ralph anywhere.
Ralph was never one to leave the yard. In these past months when walking had become more difficult for her, she seldom traveled anywhere other than the path between the garage and the parsonage backdoor.
Kathy searched the woods. Nothing.
By the time I returned home on Saturday afternoon, there wasn't any need to look further. In the mysterious beauty of nature, it was clear enough that Ralph had found the end of her long road somewhere deep in the woods.
She left the same way she came.
But from the day she appeared under the car in a Lexington driveway, to the day she disappeared into the woods of Rowan County she fulfilled her life's call as a family pet - trusting, protecting, welcoming, playing, bringing joy and loving unconditionally.
Perhaps you're fortunate enough to have a similar story about a beloved pet.
The story of my family includes a dog named Ralph.
And we're all really quite thankful!
Grace and Peace!
Pastor Randy
