Saturday, November 08, 2008


Yancey Rush is my 7 year old Corgi named after none other than Philip Yancey.

Yancey's jaws have been swelling. A few days ago I took him to the vet. They gave him some antibiotics believing him to have been bitten. He was getting much better and then yesterday it was back again; only worse.

I took him this morning to a different vet to get a second opinion. The new place was very nice and very careful with Yancey. He seemed lethargically ill. The doctor concluded Yancey was quite ill with cancer. We had to put him to sleep immediately. I could hardly believe it was happening.

I stayed with him and can't believe how teary this day has been since. I walked into the veterinarian's clinic with a dog and walked out with only a leash in tow. I stayed with him while he died. His know pet eyes can haunt you sometimes? His eyes looked at me so sadly.

However, Yancey and I did one thing together on his very last day which was a valuable thing. We were able to work our conversation with the vet around to church, where it was located and what it was like. I did all of the talking as Yancey partnered silently. If it hadn't been for Yancey, I might have never met the very compassionate doctor.

Even tearful moments matter, don't you think?


Anonymous said...

We had a Corgi when I was in high school and college. They are so, so smart and way cute. Sorry to hear about your loss. Ours died last year at the age of 15.

Anonymous said...

man, i've never owned a dog but this story made me feel for ya. rough day...

Stoogelover said...

My heart goes out to you, my friend. We've had to do that too many times and it never is easy. Never!

Terry Laudett said...

I'm sorry for your loss. You are right about your sad time being used by God. I would like for you to take a look at one of my saddest days and how God used it at I hope it will encourage you.

Terry Rush said...


I read it.

Blessings to you and Janet for hearts beyond the first mile!

I love you today!

Anonymous said...

my friend, Joe, sent this to me and others today, enjoy, Jim Cooke, Midland, TX

Terry, by the way, thanks for sharing things you don't always think you will read or hear. it brings out something in all of us

I don't know if you get the weekly email from Max Lucado or not, but I especially liked this one...and we don't have a dog. I hope you like it too.

A Forever Home
by Max Lucado

For the last twenty years, I’ve wanted a dog. A big dog. But there were always problems. The apartment was too small. The budget was too tight. The girls were too young. But most of all, Denalyn was unenthusiastic. Her logic? She’d already married one slobbering, shedding beast, why put up with a second? So we compromised and got a small dog.

I like Salty, but small dogs aren’t really dogs. They don’t bark; they yelp. They don’t eat; they nibble. They don’t lick you; they sniff you. I like Salty, but I wanted a real dog. A man’s-best-friend type of dog. A fat-pawed, big-eating, slurp-you-on-the-face type of dog you could saddle or wrestle or both.

I was alone in my passion until Sara was born. She loves dogs. And the two of us were able to sway the household vote. Denalyn gave in, and Sara and I began the search. We discovered a woman in South Carolina who breeds golden retrievers in a Christian environment. From birth the dogs are surrounded by inspirational music and prayers. (No, I don’t know if they tithe with dog biscuits.) When the trainer told me that she had read my books, I got on board. A woman with such good taste is bound to be a good breeder, right?

So we ordered a pup. We mailed the check, selected the name Molly, and cleared a corner for her dog pillow. The dog hadn’t even been born, and she was named, claimed, and given a place in the house.

Can’t the same be said about you? Long before your first whimper, your Master claimed you, named you, and hung a reserved sign on your room. You and Molly have more in common than odor and eating habits. (Just teasing.)

You’re both being groomed for a trip. We prefer the termsmaturation and sanctification to weaning and training, but it’s all the same. You’re being prepared for your Master’s house. You don’t know the departure date or flight number, but you can bet your puppy chow that you’ll be seeing your Owner someday. Isn’t this the concluding promise of David?

“And I will dwell in the house of the Lord forever” (Ps. 23:6 nkjv).

Where will you live forever? In the house of the Lord. If his house is your “forever house,” what does that make this earthly house? You got it! Short-term housing. This is not our home. “Our homeland is in heaven” (Phil. 3:20).

We, like Molly, are being prepared for another house.

Don’t quench, but rather, stir this longing for heaven.

God’s home is a forever home. “And I will dwell in the house of the Lord forever” (Ps. 23:6 nkjv).

May God bless you,

Joe Reed
Midland, TX

Brenda said...

Terry, I'm so sorry to hear about Yancey. It's so hard to look into our pets eyes and know how to help when we feel so helpless. I know Yancey knew you were doing all you could and I'm sure he was pleased that he could provide such an important opportunity for you to minister in those moments. It's amazing how much our dogs know about us and the opportunites they provide.
I'll be praying for you and your heart this week as you think back to all those happy times you had with him.
Love you!

Nellie said...

I am so sorry for your loss of your friend Yancey. We lost our little Willie (a rat terrier) just about a year ago, and I can still shed a tear if I think about him for very long. Isn't it amazing the emotion our pets can bring out in us?

Your family will be in my prayers as you adjust to life without Yancey.

Donna G said...

My little Yorkie-Pug mix died about a year ago. I still look for him to run up and greet me. I held him in his last moments too.