Elvis the Pelvis by Sarah B. / Mama

Dear Elvis,

One cold night in December, God decided to give me the most wonderful Christmas present. You. You were my neighbor’s dog that he had left. You had lost most of your hair. No one really wanted you except me. I bathed you every night and kept you warm. You made me laugh when you slept in the laundry basket full of dirty clothes. I didn’t do laundry as much so you would have a place to sleep.

I took you to the vet so your hair would grow back. After that, everyone thought you were so handsome. Your black and white coat was so sleek and shiny. My neighbor wanted you back, but it was too late. You were mine.

Your silly little antics would always make me laugh. The way you looked so funny dragging yourself across the floor on your belly. How you “stole” Daddy’s spot on the bed every time he got up in the morning. You would do anything for a cookie. How when you were happy or excited you would wag your little “nubbin” of a tail making your whole hind end shake (hints the name Elvis the Pelvis). You would dig holes so deep that when I looked out at you, all I could see was two little black ears peaking up from the ground. You didn’t like to walk across the tile in our new home because you would slip and slide. Even though you always barked at the cats, when my head was turned I knew you were licking and playing with them. When we took care of stray kittens that had to be bottle fed, you laid with them and cleaned them up (you looked just like a mother hen). You laid under the trees in the shade with a horde of birds surrounding your food dish, and you didn’t get up to chase a single one.

One warm June morning, God decided to take you home. I held your lifeless body close to mine. Tears streamed down my face. I kept telling myself that you would wake up. That you would breathe again. I held you until it was time to give you back to the earth in which you came. We buried you under the trees in the shade in a beautiful box. There are lots of birds there. You have your favorite pillow from the couch with you. I wrote you a letter and put in your box. My picture is with you along with my grandmother’s. Hopefully, you will find her. I know she will take good care of you until we meet again. You have your collar and tag so every angel in Heaven will know you were mine.

I went out to your grave the morning after you died. I begged and pleaded with God to give you back to me. I got mad at God for taking you away. I felt abandoned by God. I felt that maybe to punish me He took you away. I got scared that you were not in Heaven. I was worried that you died with much pain and you were now alone. As I walked back to the house I realized I was wrong. I saw a gathering of mocking birds where you died. The weeping willow’s leaves were falling down by the hundreds as if it was weeping with me. I knew God sent me these signs. He was crying with me. He was showing me that He missed you being on earth with me, too, but He had a far greater reason for bringing you to Heaven. Though I may not ever know that reason in my lifetime, I can only imagine it was for the most wonderful purpose. I picked up some of the God’s tears and placed them on your grave. I even saved a few for myself.

I hope you are running as wild as can be in Heaven. Boy, did you sure love to run. I hope you are making all the angels laugh just as you made me laugh. I hope you are spending your days under the trees among the birds and your nights curled up on your pillow. I hope you are getting all the cookies your little heart desire because you sure do deserve them. I hope you are playing with all the other beloved pets in Heaven who are waiting for their masters to come home.

But most of all, I hope that you will be waiting for me with your “nubbin” wagging when I get there.


Until We Meet Again my love,
Elvis the Pelvis
9, June 2005
Sarah B.