Father Time has a way of slowing us all down. He rules the animal kingdom with the
exact same rules. A decade and a half had passed since Daddy had first taken that five
week old puppy out of his back seat and dropped him into the arms of Gary, Ken, and
me. Now at fifteen years, Zeke operated in the Toby Keith mode. "I'm not as good as
I was once was but I'm as good once as I ever was!"
The young Zeke spent his daylight hours "cooling it" under the front shrubbery.
Fifteen years later, the old Zeke spent his days lying on the white sandy soils of our
driveway soaking up the sun's rays and the heat of the sand. Nature's blanket was
soothing therapy to old aches and pains compounded by the years of reign as King Of
the Road. Gary, Ken, and I were grown men. Another new generation of McDonalds
became the new playmate. Brother Ken was now daddy to a little girl, Lucy (RSHS '
91). The rough, tumble and rumble play of three young boys was replaced by a small,
sweet girl sharing a tea party with Zeke as he lay in the warm sands of our driveway.
God had given Zeke the perfect playmates to meet his needs from Day One. As many
times as not, Lucy used Zeke as a couch as she sat on him while sharing the imaginary
tea. Danny Loftis did not come down our road as nearly often now that Kevin and
Denny were also grown. However, when Danny did pass in that old Ford truck, Zeke
never even lifted his head from the sand. Perhaps he knew that Rock was in the bed
of that antique pick-up and a chase would be fruitless. Furthermore, the reality of the
situation was that the urge to chase was overwhelmed by the comfort of Mother
Nature's sandy heat blanket. In addition, Zeke could not leave the party. The
imaginary tea and the real love from Lucy was too good to run away from.
Zeke developed a large sore on his side that just would not heal like his battle scars of
years gone by. The analysis of his non-healing sore was cancer. Zeke had finally met
a foe he could not whip.
On a Thursday, Daddy gave Zeke his final ride to Dr. Ralph Gandy's clinic. Unlike
Roberdel's Tip Sanford, Dr. Gandy was Rockingham's degreed, expensive veterinarian
with a diploma hanging on the wall. Pop asked Dr. Gandy to put Zeke to sleep, a
decision Daddy later regretted but nevertheless, the correct decision to make. The
final chapter on the lesson of life's cycle from birth to death was complete. Three
grown men and their Dad came to grips with the death of not only a faithful
companion but also with the death of a true friend, OUR BEST FRIEND!!! Zeke died
at fifteen; that is one hundred five to you and me.
I believe in Heaven. I believe in Heaven as a true born-again Christian does because I
find that promise in the Bible. The Bible is God's Holy Word. As any convicted,
Southern Baptist would say, "If it says so in the Bible, I believe it." On the other hand,
if it is not in the Bible, it does not mean it is a lie. Nowhere in the Bible does it say that
dogs go to Heaven, but no where does it say they do not either. I have got to believe
that dogs are in Heaven. Furthermore, if dogs are in Heaven, Zeke has to be there.
After all, he was a faithful church-going dog. I am also sure his old nemesis, Rock, is
also there. Remember, Zeke did beat the Devil out of Rock on the front porch of
McDonald Baptist Church one summer many years ago during Vacation Bible School.
Glory, Hallelujah! For Zeke, Scott McDonald Road has now been replaced by streets
of gold. The King Of the Road now walks these golden streets with the King of Kings.
When the Roll Is Called Up Yonder, I plan to be there, wrestling with Zeke in the back
seat of a ' 60 green Plymouth reliving those precious childhood memories of growing
up in Rockingham, North Carolina - a small textile town in the South in the ' 50s & '
60s.
To be continued ...
exact same rules. A decade and a half had passed since Daddy had first taken that five
week old puppy out of his back seat and dropped him into the arms of Gary, Ken, and
me. Now at fifteen years, Zeke operated in the Toby Keith mode. "I'm not as good as
I was once was but I'm as good once as I ever was!"
The young Zeke spent his daylight hours "cooling it" under the front shrubbery.
Fifteen years later, the old Zeke spent his days lying on the white sandy soils of our
driveway soaking up the sun's rays and the heat of the sand. Nature's blanket was
soothing therapy to old aches and pains compounded by the years of reign as King Of
the Road. Gary, Ken, and I were grown men. Another new generation of McDonalds
became the new playmate. Brother Ken was now daddy to a little girl, Lucy (RSHS '
91). The rough, tumble and rumble play of three young boys was replaced by a small,
sweet girl sharing a tea party with Zeke as he lay in the warm sands of our driveway.
God had given Zeke the perfect playmates to meet his needs from Day One. As many
times as not, Lucy used Zeke as a couch as she sat on him while sharing the imaginary
tea. Danny Loftis did not come down our road as nearly often now that Kevin and
Denny were also grown. However, when Danny did pass in that old Ford truck, Zeke
never even lifted his head from the sand. Perhaps he knew that Rock was in the bed
of that antique pick-up and a chase would be fruitless. Furthermore, the reality of the
situation was that the urge to chase was overwhelmed by the comfort of Mother
Nature's sandy heat blanket. In addition, Zeke could not leave the party. The
imaginary tea and the real love from Lucy was too good to run away from.
Zeke developed a large sore on his side that just would not heal like his battle scars of
years gone by. The analysis of his non-healing sore was cancer. Zeke had finally met
a foe he could not whip.
On a Thursday, Daddy gave Zeke his final ride to Dr. Ralph Gandy's clinic. Unlike
Roberdel's Tip Sanford, Dr. Gandy was Rockingham's degreed, expensive veterinarian
with a diploma hanging on the wall. Pop asked Dr. Gandy to put Zeke to sleep, a
decision Daddy later regretted but nevertheless, the correct decision to make. The
final chapter on the lesson of life's cycle from birth to death was complete. Three
grown men and their Dad came to grips with the death of not only a faithful
companion but also with the death of a true friend, OUR BEST FRIEND!!! Zeke died
at fifteen; that is one hundred five to you and me.
I believe in Heaven. I believe in Heaven as a true born-again Christian does because I
find that promise in the Bible. The Bible is God's Holy Word. As any convicted,
Southern Baptist would say, "If it says so in the Bible, I believe it." On the other hand,
if it is not in the Bible, it does not mean it is a lie. Nowhere in the Bible does it say that
dogs go to Heaven, but no where does it say they do not either. I have got to believe
that dogs are in Heaven. Furthermore, if dogs are in Heaven, Zeke has to be there.
After all, he was a faithful church-going dog. I am also sure his old nemesis, Rock, is
also there. Remember, Zeke did beat the Devil out of Rock on the front porch of
McDonald Baptist Church one summer many years ago during Vacation Bible School.
Glory, Hallelujah! For Zeke, Scott McDonald Road has now been replaced by streets
of gold. The King Of the Road now walks these golden streets with the King of Kings.
When the Roll Is Called Up Yonder, I plan to be there, wrestling with Zeke in the back
seat of a ' 60 green Plymouth reliving those precious childhood memories of growing
up in Rockingham, North Carolina - a small textile town in the South in the ' 50s & '
60s.
To be continued ...
| Chapter 11 When The Roll Is Called Up Yonder written by Bob McDonald |
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