He wasn't really an ugly dog : there are no such things. He was just kind of odd looking, but his name was Ugly. People seeing him for the first time often looked shocked, and said in tones of disbelief, "Is that a dog?" Sometimes they said worse things, like "Is that some genetic experiment gone wrong?" or "What did you do to get that, cross a giant rodent with a squid?" Even the way Ugly moved was odd. He kind of scrabbled all the time, his body seeming to move sideways as his odd-shaped legs wiggled and staggered like a spastic crab. Ugly knew he was not loved. He was treated well, but there was no love. Sympathy, yes. Compassion, yes. But his people did not love him. Ugly knew that they tried to love him, that they did their very best, but they did not love him. Being a dog, he accepted the situation and did his best, as they did. There were other pets in his household: cats, dogs, fish, birds, animals of many kinds. They were all loved. Ugly knew this, and was as kind and gentle to the others as he could be. The people discouraged their other pets from playing with Ugly anyway. He learned that it was less painful to his loving, yearning heart to stand quietly and not be noticed than to try to enter the group when the family was laughing and playing and showing their love for the other pets. He was not welcomed in the childrens' rooms when they went to bed at night as the other pets were; he was taken along by the children when they walked their other dogs only because the adults insisted that the children be good to him. Many times the adults had interfered to stop children from throwing stones at Ugly and from screaming in his sensitive ears and teasing him in a myriad of ways. Ugly once heard an adult say, after yet another rescue, "I know why the children do it -- that is such an ugly excuse for a dog!" and the rest had laughed. One night, Ugly had felt a strange urge to get up and bark. He crawled out of his shelter, and saw something weird near the house. He had no idea what it was, but it didn't look right, and he barked to warn his people. Someone shouted at him to shut up, but he kept right on barking: there was danger, and his people needed to know it. The other dogs quickly realized the problem, and some of the cats helped, too. Soon the people were outside, and safe from the fire; they praised the inside pets and the outside pets and... as usual, Ugly was ignored except for a quick pat on the head from the most compassionate of the adults. The house gone, the family had to find somewhere else to live. They weren't able to take all their pets with them, and their friends and neighbours would accept only some of them. Ugly climbed into the truck as ordered, scrambling with difficulty into the box. He knew this would be his last ride on earth. He was not yet an old dog, being only eight and in excellent health, but he knew that he would not be returning to his family ever. Doglike, he accepted facts as they were. "He's got to go," said one of his people. "We can't get a place for him anywhere, and besides, he's too big and too old to make it worth while to board him until we get a new place." Like all the other pets, Ugly knew that old Bounder, the St. Bernard, had only a few weeks to live, and the family was paying for Bounder to board at a kennel for as long as necessary. With a sigh, Ugly waited patiently for the injection to take affect. He moved from this life to the foot of the Rainbow Bridge without a struggle. At the foot of the Rainbow Bridge, Ugly found playmates for the first time in his life. They were not hampered by looks or awkwardness, and they accepted Ugly as another dog, a playmate until their People arrived. Ugly watched with something like contentment as other pets perked up their ears, their eyes suddenly brighter, when their People came into view. His tail waved gently as he watched his playmates bounding across the distance into their owners' love, and he smiled in his doggy way as they crossed the Rainbow Bridge with the ones they loved who loved them. When the People of his household came, Ugly did not go to them. He came to the edge of the playground, where they could see him, and waited. None of them remembered him, and none of them reached out to him or called to him. It was many years before they had all come and gone, but they all crossed the bridge without him. A very old dog, who seemed wiser than all the rest, told Ugly that there was a good reason for these things to happen, and that it was each dog's responsibility to do his best, no matter what, trusting that there will someday be a Person for each faithful dog. (Now, that is a redundancy. All dogs are faithful). One bright morning, all the pets stopped playing and stared in wonder. Up the hill toward the bridge was coming the strangest human they had ever seen. If they had been lesser beings, they might have said, "Is that really a human, or is it a genetic experiment gone wrong?" Being animals, they accepted this person as she was, and they waited to see if they would be needed. Ugly, as usual, waited at the edge of the play area, watching and listening. It was strange that any human should walk with such trouble, struggling to move up the gentle slope, gasping for breath. Humans always moved easily and smoothly here, sometimes even laughing for joy as they came. This human looked tired and worn out, in pain, and without hope. Ugly moved nearer, thinking that maybe he could offer his shoulder to lean on or perhaps just encourage her by wagging his tail. The human stopped to catch her breath, and sat heavily on the grass, gasping. Ugly moved closer, wagging very gently so as not to frighten her. The human turned her head and stared at Ugly. Then her strange eyes -- never had any of the animals seen such odd eyes -- seemed to glow with a light such as Ugly had never seen. The human' mouth moved in a grimace, and she made a sound that would have had other humans backing away in fear, but Ugly heard the meaning behind that grimace and that sound: "Good Dog!" Ugly's eyes brightened, and he moved forward a few steps. The human's mouth smoothed into a lovely smile and she said again, "Good Dog!" Seconds later, the two were a tangled bundle of joy and love as they greeted one another with joyous laughter. As they passed over the Rainbow Bridge together, they were dancing. © S. G. Harper "love isn't always what we expect it to be" S. G. Harper Light a candle in memory of all those hurt or lost, for a sick, abused, or special needs furbaby, or perhaps just someone who needs a prayer and a candle lit.