the life of riley.

the past 36 hours have been among the top five saddest days of my life. my precious dog, riley, passed away early yesterday morning. i still can't keep from crying when i write or say it.

i didn't know that i had so much love in my heart for a dog, for this dog. i could hardly bear to leave him last tuesday when i left des moines, not knowing if i would see him again. he had a persistent cough and was having issues getting up and moving around. we took him to the vet last monday, and they prescribed some arthritis medication, which seemed to help him. i really thought maybe the cough would pass, and he would be able to get around with less difficulty. on friday, though, it was a different story.

my mom and andy spent riley's last hours loving on him and taking care of him. at about 1am yesterday morning, they decided it was time. riley was having seizures and couldn't stand. they took him to the vet, and the rest is, well... i'm sure you get it. the end was peaceful for him.

for the rest of us... not so much. i don't know how to even begin explaining how deep this ache is. i love riley so much. he's part of the family, for sure. but, as my brother has said, he really was more like a person than a dog to us. the way he connected with people, the way he related to the other dogs (and cats) in the house, his personality... i love how, whenever he would approach me, he would wag his tail wildly, causing his whole body to sway back and forth. and while he did this, he would sort of bow his head, with a sparkle in his eye. the other dogs, bless them, get excited to see anyone, but will immediately run after you to sniff your crotch. riley didn't do that. every greeting was like a meeting of dear friends after a long time away, filled with hugs and kisses and smiles.

riley was a gift from the Lord. it was through riley that i first truly experienced and recognized the love of God for me.

we found riley at the animal rescue league on february 25, 1995. i was twelve years old and desperately wanted a dog. my mom told me that she would consider getting one if i demonstrated responsibility by keeping my room clean for a number of months. i somehow managed to accomplish this task well enough (deceptively so, though, as i STILL have issues keeping my room/apartment tidy), so one day we decided to go to the ARL just to "look." well, that was it. we met riley, and i think all of us were sold. he was about a year old, and was thought to be a golden retriever mix. he seemed calm and well-adjusted, but that was just an act to get us to take him home.

we DID take him home, and discovered we had caught a wild one. he would not, for the life of him, go into a kennel. he used to have these crazy running frenzies occasionally where, it was like someone flipped the "turbo riley" switch. he would frantically run a figure eight, stop suddenly, bark or growl, and then take off again. it scared me then, but looking back on it, it was pretty hilarious. he never really learned to heel, and was always walking us rather than us walking him. he loved to chase cats and occasionally fight other dogs who would challenge his alpha-ness.

sometime during the first couple years, riley was sick and was vomiting often. we took him to the vet, and about $1000 later, they said that he had acute pancreatitis, and that we should not expect him to live long. at some point early on, he also had some sores on his nose, and the doctors speculated that he had lupus. between his wildness and his illnesses, we almost took riley back. it was almost too much.

but i remember praying. even before i had ever committed my heart to Jesus, i remember talking to God as i took riley on walks. i told God how much i had grown to care for this dog, and would He please teach him to calm down, somehow, and make him get better. well, the "pancreatitis" ended up being easily treatable with some tagamet, and the sores on his nose eventually went away completely. riley calmed down enough to where he was manageable.

february 8th, 1997, was a saturday. i'll never forget it. andy accidentally left the front door open, and riley got out of the house. he was still wild enough that we weren't sure if he would come back, given the opportunity to run away. i came downstairs to find the front door wide open and my dog nowhere in sight. we searched frantically for hours. i walked around in shorts and a t-shirt on the february day, crying so hard i could barely breathe. after hours of this, i went home, exhausted. i laid on the floor in the upstairs bathroom, the warmest place in the house. i cried out to God from the deepest part of my heart: "oh, God, i love this dog! are You there? i want what's best for him, but i love him so much. would you bring him back to me?" i religiously said "amen", and no less than a minute later, the doorbell rang, my mom called me downstairs, and my precious friend came running into my arms, smiling as if nothing had ever happened.

it was the first time i knew, without a doubt, that God was involved in my life, and that He cared for me. looking back now, i see many times He was that i just didn't recognize at the time, but this was the first time that i knew that i knew that i knew that the God of the universe cared for me, little stephanie. he used a dog to show me His love.

a month and a half later, on march 29th, 1997, on good friday that year, i gave my heart to Jesus and committed to following Him all of my days.

riley died on march 29th.

although this hurts much more than i can possibly explain right now, i know You are still involved. You care for riley, and for me, and You care that i care about riley. You even set up his passing in such a way, on such a day, that i would know it wasn't just some random, tragic occurrence, but that You planned it. and so, although right now i want more than anything to have riley alive and well and in my arms, i can trust that You know what You are doing. it hurts so bad, so deeply... but i can trust You. i don't understand it, but i can trust You.

my hope has to be in the Lord. nothing else works. without Him, all this is is senseless suffering. without Him, all i have to comfort me is thirteen years of memories with a great dog. quite honestly, those thoughts aren't really comforting at all right now, because each memory is a reminder of what i no longer have. but with You, i know this can mean more than than loss. it can be redemptive. You can use it to work out something much better than a memory. please, come. have Your way.

i do believe, help me in my unbelief.

we miss you, riley.