末日

冬天的一個(gè)夜晚，我撫摸著她柔軟的黑毛。她的臀部蜷臥在我的大腿上，泛灰色的頭靠在我的肩上，一只黑爪子緊緊環(huán)抱著我的胳膊。這是我們每晚平靜的生活。我從未忘記第一次見到她時(shí)的情景：有一天，我侄子來了，帶著自己的兩只獵鷸幼犬，告訴我自己選。

我看著肥胖的小毛毛球在地上打滾，正如我侄子確知會(huì)發(fā)生的情形，我的心變軟了。“價(jià)格合理，”他勸誘我，“免費(fèi)！”

我的外孫薩姆，一直纏著我要買只小狗。因此，我怎么忍得住呢？當(dāng)然，由薩姆為小狗取名。“我想，我只能給她取名為布萊基。”他說，“因?yàn)樗簧砗凇！?/p>

“你想給她取什么名字都行。”

“太好了！”薩姆愉快地說，“那么，我們叫她斯皮德！”于是，她就是斯皮德。

現(xiàn)在，薩姆是一個(gè)小伙子了。斯皮德像我一樣，成了老婆婆。我們的行動(dòng)都不再靈活了。今非昔比。那時(shí)，母親依然健在，同斯皮德與我在一起生活。每天我離家上班時(shí)，她從前門向我揮手告別，斯皮德就在她的腳旁。

“做個(gè)好姑娘，斯皮德。”一天早晨，我說，并俯身撓撓她的耳朵，“我不在時(shí)，你要陪伴著媽媽。”

我轉(zhuǎn)身離去。順著前面的小路走至中途，我聽到“斯皮德！回來！”當(dāng)一個(gè)黑色的移動(dòng)的模糊物跑過，又順著街區(qū)飛奔時(shí)，我一下子停住了。“我不知道她怎么溜出去的！”母親說。

我在后面追趕她。她停下坐著等我。正當(dāng)我夠得著她時(shí)，她又跑開了——這次是朝著房屋！反復(fù)來回四次，我最終捉住了淘氣鬼。“今天早晨，你一定要我鍛煉身體，是嗎？”我說。

斯皮德歡快地吠叫著。

我的“晨練”成了一種習(xí)慣。在得克薩斯的酷熱中、傾盆大雨下、結(jié)冰的滑溜溜的路面上，你會(huì)看到我穿著公務(wù)裝，追捕斯皮德。“那才是好時(shí)光，是嗎，老婆婆？”

斯皮德抬眼望著我，她的目光搜尋著我的目光，以得到保證。我那雙眼睛曾經(jīng)呈深褐色，曾因患白內(nèi)障而渾濁不清，我通過外科手術(shù)把白內(nèi)障切除了。

我?guī)椭M(jìn)了地上的狗窩。斯皮德不斷的中風(fēng)，有時(shí)，她的身體難以保持平衡。可是，她在窩里歡快地躺下，頭垂在一側(cè)，這是她特喜愛的姿勢(shì)——除了在我的腿上外。

我上了床。她與我一起還能度過多少個(gè)夜晚呢？我自忖道。

我的獸醫(yī)診所里有一首詩，描述了一座連接著天國(guó)與人間的美麗的彩虹橋。一切動(dòng)物死亡時(shí)，都會(huì)穿越那座橋。在橋的另一端，年老的狗又變得年輕了。從此，在無盡的綠油油的農(nóng)田里嬉戲喧鬧，期待著它們所愛的人。

“上帝啊，”我掖了掖被子，說道，“當(dāng)輪到斯皮德時(shí)，請(qǐng)讓她平靜地死去吧。讓她快樂地跑過那座彩虹橋吧。”

幾周后，我?guī)蛊さ氯?dòng)物醫(yī)院洗澡。我開車返回接她時(shí)，護(hù)理者告訴我一些壞消息。“斯皮德好像很虛弱，她也許會(huì)再次中風(fēng)。”

她把斯皮德用毛毯裹著，抱到我的車上。她呼吸急促，目光顯得呆滯。我把斯皮德抱進(jìn)房中，徑直到了我們的安樂椅上。我把她放在大腿上，撫摸著她的頭，“我們到家了，斯皮德。”我柔聲說道，“別擔(dān)心。我不會(huì)離開你。”

斯皮德抬起頭，靠著我的肩，她的爪子緊緊環(huán)抱著我的胳膊。我們就呆在那兒，直到我們都睡著了。子夜剛過，斯皮德開始吠叫。我能看出她的痛苦。她的呼吸變得刺耳而急促。

“上帝啊，” 我說，“請(qǐng)派給我一位天使，幫助斯皮德度過這種痛苦吧。如果這是她離去的時(shí)刻，請(qǐng)讓這些時(shí)刻快樂而平靜吧。把天使派到我們家里吧！”

話語剛剛出口，這時(shí)，我覺得房間里真的變了。某人——某物已經(jīng)進(jìn)來了。我能覺察出來。斯皮德與我不再寂寞。我環(huán)視四周，可是，那兒沒有人，我沒看見什么人。而那是什么呢？在緊靠遠(yuǎn)處的墻的椅子上，我用眼一瞟，就看到一只有著深褐色眼睛的黑狗，就像斯皮德一樣。

“斯皮德，”我低聲說，“我想上帝為你派來了一位天使——一只來撫慰你的狗。”

斯皮德哀號(hào)著在我的腿上掙扎，表示她要出去走走。我把她抱進(jìn)后院。天使狗跟我們一起進(jìn)來了。她大約齊腰高，飄至我的左側(cè)。如果我偷眼瞧瞧，剛好看見她，就在我身后。

我把斯皮德輕輕地放在草地上，天使狗消失了。我把斯皮德抱回屋時(shí)，沒有發(fā)現(xiàn)令我們慰藉的朋友，但我依然會(huì)感到它的存在，像剛才一樣堅(jiān)定。

斯皮德的呼吸平靜下來。她只是顯得疲憊而沒有不安。我把她放在我椅子旁的狗窩里，她的頭垂在一側(cè)，她喜歡這個(gè)樣子。斯皮德伸出一只小爪子觸摸著我的椅子，如同她是只幼犬時(shí)，安靜地入睡。我也松了口氣。斯皮德不再痛苦，而且，她并不孤獨(dú)。有我在她身邊，一位天使為她領(lǐng)路，仁慈的上帝正盼著迎接她去天國(guó)。

大約早晨8點(diǎn)，斯皮德的呼吸減弱了，停止了。同時(shí)形體消失了。我確信了我所知道的事，斯皮德的天使已護(hù)送她穿越了彩虹橋。可愛的斯皮德會(huì)從那兒期盼著，在那個(gè)寧?kù)o的末日，我自己的天使將引領(lǐng)我穿越彩虹橋。

At the End of the Day

By Jean Miller Meitzler

No matter what kind of a day I had， it was a comfort to know it would end with Speeder and me sitting together in my easy chair. One winter night I petted her soft black fur. Her bottom lay curled in my lap， her graying head rested on my shoulder and she wrapped one black paw around my arm. Our peaceful nightly routine. I’d never forget the first time I saw her. My nephew showed up one day with two of his own dog’s cocker-spaniel-mix puppies and told me to take my pick.

I watched the fat little balls of fur tumbling around on the floor and my heart melted， just as my nephew knew it would. “The price is right，” he tempted me. “Free!”

My grandson， Sam， had been pestering me to get a puppy， so how could I resist? Naturally it was Sam who gave the puppy her name. “I guess we’ll have to name her Blackie，” he said. “Because she’s all black.”

“Nonsense. You can name her anything you want.”

“Okay!” Sam said happily. “Then let’s call her Speeder!” And so Speeder it was.

Sam was a young man now. Speeder was an old lady， like me. Neither one of us was too speedy anymore. Not like in the old days. My mother was still alive back then and living with Speeder and me. Each day when I left for work she waved to me from the front door， Speeder at her feet.

“Be a good girl， Speeder，” I said one morning， leaning down to scratch her ears. “Keep Mother company while I’m gone.”

I turned to go. Halfway down the front walk I heard， “Speeder! Come back!” I stopped short as a black blur ran past me and raced down the block. “I don’t know how she slipped out!” Mother said.

I ran after her. She stopped and sat down to wait for me. Just as I reached her she ran off again—this time toward the house! Back and forth four times before I finally caught the rascal. “You made sure I got my workout this morning， didn’t you?” I said.

Speeder barked happily.

My “morning workout” became a habit. In broiling Texas heat， under pouring rain and over sidewalks slick with ice， you could find me in my business suit， chasing Speeder. “Those were the days， weren’t they， old girl?”

Speeder looked up at me， her eyes searching mine for reassurance. Once those eyes were deep brown. Now they were cloudy with cataracts. I’d had mine removed with surgery.

I helped her into her dog bed on the floor. Speeder had had a series of strokes that sometimes made it hard for her to balance， but she settled herself happily in her bed and hung her head off the side， her favorite position—besides my lap.

I went to my own bed. How many more nights will she be with me? I wondered.

My veterinarian had a poem in his office that described a beautiful rainbow bridge connecting heaven and earth. All animals crossed over the bridge when they died. On the other side old dogs became young again and romped and played forever in the endless green fields， waiting for the people they loved.

“Lord，” I said when I was tucked under my covers， “when it’s her time， please let Speeder die in peace. Let her run happily over that rainbow bridge.”

A few weeks later I took Speeder to the animal hospital for a bath. When I returned to pick her up the attendant had some bad news. “Speeder seems weak，” she said. “She may have had another stroke.”

She carried Speeder to my car， wrapped in a blanket. Her breathing was shallow and her eyes looked glazed. I carried Speeder into the house， right to our easy chair. I held her on my lap and stroked her head. “We’re home， Speeder，” I said softly. “Don’t worry. I won’t leave you.”

Speeder lifted her head to my shoulder and wrapped her paw around my arm. We stayed right there until we both fell asleep. Sometime after midnight Speeder started to cry. I could see she was in pain. Her breathing became harsh and shallow.

“Lord，” I said， “please send me an angel to help Speeder through this. If it is her time， let these moments be happy and peaceful. Please send an angel into our home!”

The words were barely out of my mouth when I felt a real change in the room. Someone—something?—had entered. I could feel it. Speeder and I were no longer alone. I looked around， but there was no one there， no one I could see. But what was that? In a chair against the far wall. Out of the corner of my eye I saw a black dog with deep brown eyes， just like Speeder.

“Speeder，” I whispered， “I think the Lord sent you an angel—a dog to comfort you.”

Speeder whined and struggled in my lap， signaling that she needed to go outside. I carried her into the backyard. The angel dog came with us. It floated beside me， about waist high to the left and just behind me， barely visible if I sneaked a peek.

I gently put Speeder on the grass， and the angel dog disappeared. When I carried Speeder back inside I couldn’t see our comforting friend， but I could still feel its presence， strong as ever.

Speeder’s breathing grew calm. She looked tired but not uncomfortable. I laid her in her dog bed right beside my chair， her head hanging off the side the way she liked. Speeder reached out one small paw to touch my chair， sleeping as peacefully as she had when she was only a puppy. I breathed easily too. Speeder was not in pain， and she wasn’t alone. She had me beside her， an angel to guide her and the good Lord waiting to welcome her to heaven.

At about eight o’clock in the morning， Speeder’s breathing slowed and stopped. At the same moment the presence disappeared. I knew as sure as I knew anything that Speeder’s angel had escorted her over the rainbow bridge. Good old Speeder will be there waiting when my own angel leads me over， at the peaceful end of day.