A Monkey Eulogy

2006

My dog was put down on Thursday.

For those of you that didn’t know Fanci, she was my white schnauzer that I’ve had for 10 years. She was my shadow - she’d do homework with me, sleep in my bed, everything. I could hold her upside down and she’d be completely content because she trusted me and knew I would never hurt her. If I left for somewhere overnight, as soon as I returned home she would be ecstatic! She hated when I left. And then I started doing missions and I could never explain to her that I’d be gone for months at a time. So every time someone would get home, Fanci was there, waiting for me, but I didn’t come back. So she waited, and waited. My mom says she was depressed waiting for me. Fanci had never been depressed, but she was. I broke her heart. And when she should have been in comfort, sitting snuggled in my lap for her later years, she was confused because I wasn’t home.

But all of that is ended now.

When I was briefly home last month in-between ministry, I knew she wasn’t doing well. Her energy level was lower than normal, but she still followed me everywhere and took every opportunity to cuddle in my lap. But she’s gone now. I’ll never pet her again, cuddle with her while I watch a movie, and she’ll never look up at me and wag her tail. She was my Fanci Monkey Butt (“Monkey Butt” being her nickname because she was very flexible and crazy like a monkey and she wore diapers when she was a puppy - hence Monkey Butt).

When I said “Yes” to God and missions, I don’t think I fully realized what that meant. I knew it meant leaving family and friends, but over the last year God has also removed my animals - Buster, my Thoroughbred/Quarter Horse that I trained and spent literally hundreds of hours with, along with Liberty, my Welsh mountain pony that we got when I was 9. And none of them I got to say goodbye to; Buster and Liberty were sold when I was out of state and now Fanci was put down while I’m gone, too.

There is a stripping away happening. Leaving everything that is normal and comfortable; completely dying to the flesh to do whatever God wants me to do. People romanticize missionaries, but you know? It’s hard. Leaving your family is hard. Making a new community is hard. Leaving everything you’re used to is hard. Don’t get me wrong, the rewards are eternal and wonderful and seeing people’s lives changed is amazing, but it is hard.

I cried over Fanci. I love what I’m doing, but I will still miss her. I still miss Buster and Liberty and the days where I didn’t have to worry about adult things and I could spend hours outside with the animals. Time goes by so quickly.

Wherever you are, just take a moment to enjoy the little things. Enjoy that cat rubbing up against your leg. That little child’s laugh. The leaves changing colors. The wind in your hair as you drive with your window down. Every day is a gift from God and none of us should take them for granted. The things you’re doing now, the people you’re with now, you may not always be with. Don’t take them for granted! Soak up every laugh and smile. :-)

9/29/16 - My last picture with Fanci