Mark Buford, Director of Communications
Sorry I’m late.
This past Friday was my turn to provide First Reflections, but I didn’t feel like writing.
I was angry with God.
On Wednesday, my wife Marcy and I found out that Murphy, our mixed-breed rescue dog and loving companion of 12 years, had a rare and aggressive form of cancer.
Short of chemotherapy or other ridiculously expensive forms of therapy, none of which guaranteed an extension of life or freedom from pain, there was nothing we could do for her.
And I was angry with God.
We made an appointment to have her euthanized this morning, but she took a turn for the worse on Friday.
So we had her put down that evening to make sure she didn’t suffer.
And I was angry with God.
For the past couple of days, I fought back tears as we put away her toys, her leash, her sweater and her raincoat.
I fought back tears as fur she shed around the house and other little things reminded me of her.
And I was angry with God.
Only today did it dawn on me that my anger was unjustified.
For the fate of humans and the fate of animals is the same; as one dies, so dies the other. They all have the same breath, and humans have no advantage over the animals; for all is vanity. All go to one place; all are from the dust, and all turn to dust again.
– Ecclesiastes 3:19-20
Humans and animals. We all live. We all die. And we are all gifts to one another from God.
Murphy loved Marcy and I unconditionally, just as God loves us unconditionally.
Murphy was a gift of love to us from God, and I will be eternally grateful for the time we had together.
In Wendy Francisco’s beautiful GoD and DoG, she says:
I look up and I see God. I look down and see my dog.
Today, I’m looking up and seeing them both.
First Reflections 