Friendship isn’t a big thing—it’s a million little things.
ANONYMOUS
My husband, Steve, and I both grew up near Bakersfield, California. After spending our first year of marriage elsewhere, we moved back. We lived in a little farmhouse next door to the home where Steve had grown up. This is where we adopted our first puppy.
McPherson was a beautiful shepherd mix we got from Steve’s dad. He helped prepare me for the children we would have. He taught me how to be responsible for someone other than myself by feeding and caring for him. When Steve returned from a long day at work or I hauled a carload of groceries home, McPherson would be there to greet us. He didn’t understand that we had to take care of ourselves. In his mind, we’d come home to play with him, so that’s what we should do. There was no time to waste. Someone had to throw him a ball or roll with him in the grass.
From puppyhood, McPherson went to work with my farmer husband, learning how to catch gophers. He also learned to protect, like a good dog should. McPherson would bark whenever a stranger entered our yard. If he felt unsure of a guest, he would stay watchfully by the door until the person left.
McPherson was protective of our children too. He watched them in his wonderful canine way, playing with them, loving all of us as we loved him.
He helped teach unconditional love by loving unconditionally himself. It never mattered how we looked or how we were feeling. He was always there to greet us and make us feel good to be home.
McPherson was just a puppy when my dad died. So was I. I was 21 years old then. When I was especially lonely for Dad, McPherson seemed to feel my pain. I remember sitting on the porch one day, watching a tractor plowing a field across the street. I’m sure McPherson would rather have been chasing after the tractor, but he stayed by my side and let me pet him, comforting me by his closeness and sweet spirit. As we sat, I remember seeing a kitty playing nearby. McPherson did too, but he remained with me. When I finally stood up, I hugged him and he seemed to hug me back. Then he gleefully ran after the kitty, not to hurt him but to play with him, for they were friends.
When we inadvertently ignored him, McPherson would either stay close beside us or gently walk away—but he never seemed angry. He was an incredibly loving dog. It was a comfortable evening to sit with him and tell him how I was feeling or share thoughts that no one else needed to know.
When McPherson was older, he didn’t go out as much because of his arthritis. But he was sure glad when Steve got home so he could play a little ball and then sit with Steve to be petted and enjoy time together.
McPherson was a great friend—a dog that stuck closer than a brother. When he died he was over 12 years old. He had worked hard and played hard and taught us many life lessons. We all cried when we lost him. We still miss him to this day.
Arnold was a great friend too. He had been close to my parents and was a good buddy of mine until he died. Our families went camping together and spent many weekend evenings enjoying a barbecue and his favorite homemade ice cream.
Just before I got married he brought over a straw broom and dustpan. He handed them to me and said, “Connie, when Steve comes home I want you to always have these in your hands so he knows you have been cleaning the house.” It was a joke—but it was also a sweet, loving gesture. He took the time to go to the store, buy these things, and drive 14 miles to my parents’ home to give them to me. That was over 39 years ago, and is still a precious memory.
Arnold drove a big, beautiful 18-wheel truck. He worked hard all his life. After many years he had to give up truck driving. He decided to put this truck we all loved on the market. My family considered buying it, but none of us had the funds for such a large unneeded possession. Arnold talked about his truck until the day he died. In fact, the man who bought it brought it to Arnold’s funeral so everyone could see it again. It had been to many antique truck shows and won many prizes.
Before Arnold’s illness kept him at home, he and his wife, Salome, were in my Sunday school class. Talking to him and listening to his low, slow speech was so comforting after both my parents died. I knew through the years he always loved me unconditionally—just as McPherson had. Arnold mentored me in unconditional love and taught me to take life more slowly and with a smile.
McPherson and Arnold were both loyal, loving, and sincere, and I thank God that I could count them my friends and that both were part of my life.
God understands how important friends are and the Bible talks about it. Friends teach us, guide us, love us, and tell us when we go wrong. They come to our aid when we need help and listen when we need to be heard. Proverbs 18:24 says, “One who has unreliable friends soon comes to ruin, but there is a friend who sticks closer than a brother.”
McPherson and Arnold were those kinds of friends. I will remember McPherson’s non-condemning spirit and his always-loving attitude. I will remember Arnold’s calming and soothing effect on my life and his always-sweet smile. My life is richer for knowing them both and they will always be in my heart.
A friend loves at all times (Proverbs 17:17).
Have you ever had a pet or human friend that stuck closer than a brother? What made your friendship special? How has this pet or person been there for you? What qualities do you treasure in this special friend? What have you learned that can make you a better friend yourself? What do you still need to work on?