By Judy Brandon: Religion columnist
About four years ago, we lost our beloved dachshund Weaver. He had been a part of our family since he was 6 weeks old.
Some might have characterized Weaver as docile and easy-going. He seemed that way because his days were spent sleeping and looking out the front window. Rarely did his expression change and his barking could be rated as sparse.
During the warm summertime, Weaver wanted to stay in the house to be with us. In the winter, when cold, harsh winds blew outside, Weaver was comfortable and safe inside the house, curled up in my lap while I was sitting on the recliner. On those cold winter nights when temperatures dropped and things outside perished in the harsh elements, Weaver’s personal environment was a bounteous one. He was warm, happy to be asleep and well satisfied to just be in the house with us.
This was the way Weaver was — happy and satisfied, living in the animal kingdom. Every day of his life, he was content if he was full and comfortable and with us.
But as Charlie, Buffy and I would go about our daily activities at night, Weaver would just sit. If I was reading, he couldn’t appreciate that because he didn’t know what books were for.