L is for LABRADOR

I bought him in a hurry, one of several brothers and sisters,which he would never see again and which, at least to my untrained eye, he appeared to forget about fairly quickly. He was a Ballymena puppy, born into a world of farm buildings that he rarely saw, except when the door opened at feeding time and then he would have glimpses of what lay beyond from the comfort of his straw bed and his mother's soft fur. And how she disapproved of their parting, the beginning of a family breakup, the loss of her first son, leaving to make his own life, the acceptance that others would follow and the realisation that things can't stay the same for ever. I felt sorry for her and slightly ashamed of what I was doing, but at that moment my need was greater so her cries for justice and a rethink fell on deaf ears. Anyway, her owner was a Presbyterian minister and I was sure that he had already given much prayer to the situation and reflected on the parable of the Prodigal Son before deciding that a minister's monthly pay packet could never support two families. I had met John some months previously at a church event, in Belfast, where he was speaking and we were the musical preface. Afterwards, over coffee, somehow the subject had moved from the Bible to dogs, though Jezebel had never been mentioned, and before we left, I had logged away the phrase 'Labrador puppies' and his phone number for future reference.By the time our paths were to meet again, he was now a minister out in the country and living in a rented farmhouse, near the M2. As we bundled the golden furry bundle of legs into a cardboard box, said our goodbyes and headed for the nearest intersection to the south, my feelings of remorse had almost vanished to be replaced with assurance that I had done the right thing.

Mum and dad had lived alone for a couple of years now, their only companion being a faithful Jack Russell terrier, who answered, not surprisingly, to the name of Snoopy and had become their surrogate child. When, dad found him lying lifeless on the road one morning, their grief was tangible in the days of mourning that followed. In my haste and desire to help comfort them in their loss, John's name came to mind and, a phone call later, we were heading for the motorway on our mission to unite a puppy with his adoptive parents. Their initial reaction to his arrival was somewhat underwhelming, if unexpected and initially I began to doubt my powers of discernment as they struggled to see how anyone could ever take the place of their recently departed best friend. Days turned into weeks and gradually their preoccupation turned from bereavement into bewilderment at how quickly a Labrador puppy can grow, how large an appetite it has, how it is non-selective in what it chooses to chew and how much fun it is.They called it Bruce in memory of a quiet black predecessor that poses vaguely in my archives. His coat was golden and smooth and his temperament was equally pleasant to the eye and he spent his days lying at the back door, playing with my two young sons or just basking in the morning air and being a soft pillow for another young Jack Russell puppy who arrived on the scene some years later. And he loved to roam, through the fields, along the roads, meeting up with friends and going for a swim in the local river. Often he would disappear for hours, only to return when his belly was empty and his dish was full, much like the lost son and like the dutiful parent, mum welcomed him home without a harsh word. Until one day, he didn't come back. We enquired from neighbours, searched the fields, the lanes and the pet sanctuaries. We even tentatively asked local farmers if any dogs had been caught , chasing grazing animals, but he was nowhere to be found. Then, some weeks later, he wandered home, rather sheepishly and lay down at the back door. His coat was longer now and rougher and for someone who had possibly been scavenging for food since his departure, he was not undernourished. Occasionally, he seemed reluctant to come when I called and was more impatient with the puppy and the children. As days past, he remained distant and more nervous than before, until we all began to realise that this was not Bruce at all but another stray Labrador looking for a home and when we began to lose interest, he moved on again, in search of a more permanent existence.

Jesus warns us against impostors of the truth when he says, 'Watch out for false prophets. They come to you in sheep's clothing, but inwardly they are ferocious wolves,' and also 'Watch out that you are not deceived. For many will come in my name, claiming, 'I am he,' and, 'The time is near.' Do not follow them.' Many will be deceived so keep looking closely for the signs that give them away.