Ubba...tissue alert -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Saying Good-Bye to Bubba Parents can appreciate the anticipation and excitement of their children's first words. Some parents even work hard every day to ensure they are the first to be summoned and to encourage those long-awaited sounds: "Da Da" or "Ma Ma."

The day came for Derek's first word. We heard it and were thrilled that all our efforts, coaching and hours of repetition had finally produced the desired results. Even the dog was excited to hear a recognizable word and ran to share a wet kiss! As we laughed and carefully noted this milestone in his baby book, I have to admit my husband and I were a little heartbroken. We knew there was no way to contort the word into "Ma Ma" or "Da Da" as our baby sat on the floor calling "Ubba." Yes, he was definitely calling for Bubba, our beloved family dog. It had been love at first sight for the two of them. As any friend would, Bubba was teaching Derek many things: love, caring and responsibility, and along with a nightly ritual of feeding Bubba dog bones, Derek was learning to count.

Derek was now twenty months old and I lay in the hospital awaiting the arrival of our second son. I began to get a little concerned because my husband and mother had not made it to the hospital yet. Finally, they arrived and I saw it in their faces. They didn't want to tell me but I knew something had happened, and a feeling of sadness in my heart told me it was Bubba. It was true, they had found him dead that morning and buried him before Derek woke up. The next few months were very hard. Bubba had been with me for many years and the bond between a little boy and his dog was broken. I now had the responsibility to somehow explain to Derek in a way he could understand that Bubba was gone, forever.

For weeks Derek faithfully continued his nightly feeding rituals. He would search the house and stand at the door calling for Bubba. We struggled with ways to help his young mind understand.

A few months later we had flown to my hometown for a visit, and on our return flight Derek scrambled across the seats and into my lap. Always looking for a learning experience in everything we do, I began talking about the clouds and how we were on top of them and would soon be flying through them and then would be underneath them. Derek pressed his face against the window, shook his head and exclaimed, "No, Mommy!" Then I heard him softly calling, "Bubba." As my heart broke and eyes filled with tears, my baby looked at me for help in finding his lost friend amongst all the clouds. I prayed, "God, help me know the right things to say and please help his little heart mend." Derek was now pointing out the window and saying, "God-Heaven-Clouds-Stars-Bubba." At that moment, I realized in his own little way he understood.

The flight captain came on and announced our final descent. As I worked to get us both buckled in, Derek again pressed his face to the window, called for Bubba and patiently waited. As the last cloud passed our window, he lovingly looked upward, waved and said, "Bye-bye, God! Bye-bye, Bubba!"

We landed that afternoon with pieces of our hearts left drifting in the clouds. Derek never searched or called for Bubba again.

By Shelly D. Dunford Reprinted by permission of Shelly D. Dunford

-- SAR01 (rauch01@yahoo.com), March 09, 2001