Murphy let out a big yawn and closed his eyes. He hadn’t felt like himself these past few weeks and thought a morning nap might do him some good. Daylight savings time had just begun, and he felt that losing an hour of sleep got harder every year. Why not make up for that hour now? At 84, though, no one needed an excuse to take a nap. If you made it that far, you could take all the naps you wanted.
He felt the same way about his diet. That morning, he ate a slutty brownie that his friend Hannah had made for him. While not the breakfast of champions, he enjoyed every morsel. Heck, his grandmother had lived to almost ninety-one, subsisting on a diet of lollipops and diet orange soda. A brownie wouldn’t kill him.
After taking a few deep breaths, he was in la-la land before he knew it and started to dream. In his dream, he walked through a long, dark tunnel. Once his eyes adjusted to the light at the end, he crossed over a bridge. Looking back, the bridge was bursting with colors—brighter than he’d ever seen before. He also noticed something else—he was out of pain. He even felt young again. Spritely, as a matter of fact!
Something in the distance caught his attention. It was running toward him at a rapid pace and, as it came closer, he couldn’t believe what he was seeing. His sister, Reilly, who had passed away a few years before, was charging toward him. She looked so real that he questioned whether he was dreaming or if he had astrally projected to some other dimension.
“I’ve been waiting for you,” she said, stopping just in front of him.
Murphy was caught off guard by how loud his sister’s voice sounded and how clear her appearance was. His hearing and vision had been going for a while, but now he could hear as clearly as a bell and see every vivid color in the lush garden on this side of the bridge.
“Reilly, is it really you? Where are we?”
“It’s me, Murph. And we’re on the other side of the rainbow bridge. What do you think so far?”
Murphy looked around and could still see the end of the tunnel he had walked through before crossing the bridge. Staring at it, he saw a few people crying on the other end. One was hugging him, trying unsuccessfully to hold back his sobs. He knew them right away. They were his family. The ones he had been sent to look after.
“Why are they crying?” he asked.
“Because they’re going to miss you. It’s what they do. They don’t realize how great it is for us on the other side.”
Murphy thought for a moment as he noticed the end of the tunnel fading away. “Wait, then that means I’m…”
Reilly wagged her tail and waited for Murphy to fully realize where he was.
Murphy’s eyes went wide. “In doggie heaven.”
“Well, you’re partly right. You’re in heaven. It’s not just dogs here. There are people too.”
Murphy and Reilly started walking side by side toward a pond and sat down by the water’s edge. Turtles were swimming leisurely in the water.
“Oh, and turtles are here too. They’re considered the wise ones. If you have any questions, feel free to ask the turtles. But I have a question for you.”
“What’s that?” Murphy asked.
“How do you feel?”
A butterfly fluttered around Murphy’s head and rested on his nose. It looked familiar, and then he remembered how many butterflies he had chased on summer afternoons.
“I feel fantastic. I can see and hear just fine. I have no pain in my legs, and I don’t cough when I walk.”
“Get used to it,” Reilly said. “It’s a whole new ball game on this side of the bridge.”
Murphy panted with excitement for a moment but then looked forlornly as he buried his head between his crossed paws.
“What’s the matter?” Reilly asked.
“My family. I’m going to worry about them. What are they going to do without me?”
“I worried about them too when I came here, but they had you. And trust me on this—they’ll be fine. You did good with them.”
“I’ve been thinking a lot about that over the last year,” Murphy said.
“A lot about what?” Reilly asked.
“It’s funny—they always thought it was their job to take care of me. And they did a good job. Gracie always let me out, even without being told, and spoiled me with toys. Patrick fed me well and did a great job cleaning my hair off the couch. And Maggie—well, Maggie always talked to me in funny voices and let me sleep on her bed.”
“What about the other two?” Reilly asked.
“The lady always shared her breakfast with me, and the man always let me out when I got up early. They used to take me for long walks, too, until my legs started to bother me.”
“You said they always thought it was their job to take care of you,” Reilly reminded him. “I heard a but coming.”
“But,” Murphy said, “they never figured out it was my job to take care of them. If any of them ever got sick, I’d stay with them. I taught the kids the importance of being responsible for me. I reminded the man and the lady of the importance of getting outside and taking a walk on a nice summer day.”
Murphy took a deep breath, feeling lighter than he had in years. He gazed out at the shimmering pond, watching the turtles drift lazily through the water, and thought about all the little ways he had cared for his family.
“I also taught them patience,” Murphy continued, his tail flicking contentedly. “When I was new to them, they had to teach me how to sit, stay, and not chew their stuff. It took time, but they never gave up on me. I like to think that helped them learn to be patient with each other too.”
“I remember when Aunt Mia took care of us after we left California. She thought you needed Ritalin to calm you down.”
“I’m a Lab. I eat fast. I eventually learned to chew instead of inhale.”
Reilly chuckled. “Oh yeah, I remember when you pooped on the rug so bad they had to throw it out?”
“That was after you left. How did you know about that?”
“I was watching over all of you from here. They forgave you, though.”
Murphy nodded. “Exactly. I taught them about forgiveness too. No matter what, I always greeted them with a wagging tail—even when they came home late or forgot to give me a treat. I even wagged when they cut the treats in half. People hold onto little things, but I reminded them that love means letting go of the small stuff.”
He thought for a moment, then perked up. “Oh! And gratitude! I lived every single day like it was the best day ever. Even if all I did was go outside, sniff the grass, and take a nap in the sun, I was happy. I think they saw that. I hope I taught them to appreciate the simple things.”
Reilly nudged him playfully. “I think you did, Murph. What else?”
Murphy’s ears twitched. “Unconditional love. I loved them no matter what. Whether they were happy or sad, whether they had a bad day at work or forgot to give me dinner on time. I was always there for them. I hope they remember to be there for each other the same way.”
Reilly sighed. “You know, I think that’s the biggest lesson of all.”
Murphy smiled as the butterfly flitted away, disappearing into the endless sky.
“Yeah,” he said, watching it go. “I think so too.”
