I received some sad news yesterday. While in attendance at a men’s meeting in the little village of Effingham Ontario, I received a text from my son Nathan informing me that my little Doggy Cindy had passed away in her sleep sometimes during the night. Born in November of 2011, she was nearly 14 years old. It was a moment that in the back of my head I always knew would eventually have to face. After all, I’ve always known that she could not live forever, but the news still cut like a knife regardless. 

For about a half hour after receiving the news, I walked in the morning sunshine and wept at the loss of one of the dearest friends I ever had in my life. It is at times like these that there is no question in my mind whatsoever regarding the love of God for humanity when I consider how much of a difference a dear family pet can make in our lives. God knows that when fellow humans fail us, a loving pet can make all the difference in the world helping us cope with the pain of rejection, abandonment, and betrayal. The Bible teaches us that all good gifts come from God. A loving pet, in my estimation, may very well give us an idea of just how faithful God is when he promises to be there when we need him most. Thank you God for faithful, loving pets. We can learn much from them.

Everyone grieves in their own way. Sometimes, depending on the dynamics of the relationship between the deceased and  the surviving individual, grief can be a healthy thing or in certain cases more painful than normal, especially if there was strife between the two. The term ‘complicated grief’ was brought to my attention after the death of my brother Julian on October 23rd, 2019. Because of years of an ‘On again, off again’ relationship with him, my grief was particularly painful and difficult to deal with. Even though we had been able to ‘Bury the Hatchet’ in the end, I lamented the many years of our relationship that were lost due to petty squabbling and unwillingness to consider the other guys point of view. 

Conversely, there was the grief I went through at the loss of my mom. Since my mom and I had spent the last years of her life on very good terms, I was able to carry on with no regrets allowing  me to grieve in a much less painful and healthier way.

I’m going to miss my little girl Cindy very, very much. That being said, I can rest content knowing that she was extremely well cared for and deeply loved by all those involved with her well being. In addition to the care provided by my two sons Justin and Nathan, a young Taiwanese student named Jason who rents a room in our Ottawa home became Cindy’s beloved companion in my absence, providing more than enough love and affection to her than even I may possibly could have given her. Thank you my dear friend for taking such good care of ‘my baby’. Even though it’s going to take a lot of time to assuage the pain of our loss, I accept the fact that we just have to carry on without her, at least in a physical sense. As far as I’m concerned, she will always be at our side, happily running her little heart out while being chased by much larger dogs who didn’t stand a chance in hell of catching her due to her low center of gravity and ability to ‘turn on a dime’.  Scenes of her diving into patches of shrubs as an evasive maneuver to escape large lumbering dogs will forever be etched in my memory. Another endearing trait Cindy possessed was her ability to ‘Dance’ on her hind legs. When motivated by a treat, she could stand straight up and spin on the spot for about 30 seconds at a time, much to the delight of her onlookers. Cindy could smile at you too. Often when returning home from an outing, Cindy would greet us at the door with a toothy little grin at the end of her muzzle bringing joy to our hearts.

On more than one occasion, when Cindy’s water bowl ran dry, she would  draw our attention to the fact by pawing at the floor making a scratching sound to alert us to the situation. Oh, and her love of chasing squirrels. The mere mention of the word was all it took to send Cindy into a frenzy. Watching her furiously rocket across a vast stretch of lawn in order to ambush an unsuspecting squirrel was ‘Par for the Course’ on a walk with Cindy. She never did catch one, but on more than a few occasions she came bloody close. Like a dog chasing a car, she would not have known what to do with it even if she caught one. Cindy didn’t have a mean bone in her body. With her, it was all about the chase.

These are but a few of the unforgettable little personality traits that made our little Cindy the greatest Dog a person could ever own. Before I forget, I must mention how a a great man of my acquaintance named Bob Matthews became one of Cindy’s dearest friends. Bob and I met while I was going through cancer treatment back in 2011, and we promptly became great friends as a result. In the spring of 2012, we purchased Cindy from a breeder in a town called ‘Mono Mills’ in the Greater Toronto area. Several days after bringing her home, Bob dropped in for a visit and met Cindy for the first time. That began a relationship which warms my heart  to this day. Cindy loved Bob from the get go. It is no wonder, since Bob was truly what I’d call a ‘Dog Man’, or a ‘Man’s Man’ in every sense of the word. Bob had a dog of his own named ‘Dexter’, a large black ‘Labradoodle’ that loved to go on long hikes with Cindy, Bob and I. Oh how I miss those days out on the Bruce trail in the Halton Hills area. On more than one occasion, little white Cindy would end up being covered with mud and a real mess to hold on to while riding in Bob’s ‘Chief Cherokee’ back home. One day, Bob just picked her up and tossed her into a large pool in ‘Silver Creek’ which cascaded down the Niagara Escarpment. It’s no wonder that whenever the name of Bob was mentioned, Cindy would abruptly bolt to attention, eagerly looking from left to right as to his apparent whereabouts. Like Bob would often comment, even though Cindy was little in stature, she was ‘All Dog’ in terms of her huge heart,

Intrepid spirit, and insatiable zest for life. I could go on and on and on.

We will love you forever little girl. I believe that one day God will reunite us and the tears and the sorrow will  be a thing of the past. Maybe you will get to to meet all the other ‘Rexies’ and ‘Cindys’ that my family has owned over the many years, and taunt them to ‘give chase’ over the ‘Hills and the Vales’ and through the ‘Briars and the Brambles’ much to your joy and delight. God knows how much we loved you. After all, he gave you to us. You were just one of the many gifts that God gives us all as a demonstration of his love for us. The greatest gift of all was his Son Jesus, who in turn, gave up his own life so we can all be together one day in Paradise. I look forward to walking with Christ, and all the the dogs in the most beautiful ‘Dog Park’ I cannot even begin to imagine, and watch the whole pack running as fast as they can, Cindy in the lead with a huge grin spread across her little muzzle.

Glory be to God in the highest, and to Jesus our Lord, Amen!!

By the way, she had a few nicknames as well.  One was ‘Kikimilly’, or ‘Kiki’ for short. Another was simply ‘Pig’. I believe the movie ‘Babe’ had a little to do with it.  The part where the farmer said “That will do pig, that will do” may have been somewhat of an influence. ‘Polar Puff’ was another. If you could see how much Cindy loved frolicking through fresh snow you would understand why. No matter how deep, Cindy would find a way to plow through the drifts, short legs and all, to keep up with Bob and I as we trudged through the fluffy white stuff. Often, similar to a little white harp seal pup, all that could be seen in the snow were two little dark brown eyes and a little black nose staring back at you. Now, when I look up into the sky, I hope to see those same dark little eyes and that jet black nose staring back at me through the white, billowy clouds. I love you Cindy. This isn’t ’good bye’. It’s ‘See ya later’.

Sunday October 4th, 2025

By Lucien Alexander Delean, aka ‘Looch’