Four-Footed Angels

by J. T. Livingston

  Martin and Max joined in the group hug and Max laughed out loud. “I was wondering when we would be seeing you again, Andrew…and don’t you worry too much…you can have as much of that cake as you want when you get to your next phase. I have to say, though…I’m surprised to find you still in this first phase of transition.”

  Andrew Brown was the twin brother to Amos Brown, and they had both been frequent visitors to the Heavenly Grille Café. They had previously met Max when their father had taken them to a café to celebrate their seventh birthday. The white patrons did not want them eating in the café, but the owner had stood up to them and let them know, without a doubt, that the Brown family was more than welcome to eat there. Max served the boys their first taste of his famous buttermilk cake that day and had taken a picture of himself with the entire Brown family. Amos Brown still had that picture, which served as proof that Max had not aged one bit in almost seventy years. Amos was also with Amanda the day that Max showed himself to them in his heavenly form.

  Andrew grinned widely and shook his head. “It seems like only yesterday when I arrived here; sometimes it’s really hard to believe that it’s been almost two years. I mean…I knows I’m dead, but...I been havin’ a hard time not having Amos here beside me…we ain’t ever been separated for too long, you know…so it’s takin’ me a while to let go of that feelin’…but I am ready now…yessirree…I can’t wait to see what’s next!”

  Max hugged Andrew against him again and said, “You don’t have to worry about Amos at all; he’s fine. He misses you and your father a lot, but he’s been keeping busy since you passed on. We were a little worried about him for a couple of months, but he is at peace with your passing because he knows the two of you will be reunited again with the rest of your family one day.”

  “I’m glad to know he’s okay, Mr. Max. I was worried that Amos wouldn’t want to go on after I died…he spent so much time taking care of me those last couple of years. Nobody could ask for a better brother. I miss him, but up here, it’s not a sad kind of missing, if you know what I mean.”

  “We know exactly what you mean, Andrew,” Martin smiled. “That’s all part of the first transitioning phase…letting go of that sadness we first feel in leaving our loved ones behind.”

  “Well,” Bertie laughed as she punched Andrew on the shoulder, “One thing is for sure…since Amos is one of the two humans who know the truth about us, we can tell him that we saw you today and that you truly are in a better place!”

  Andrew sighed deeply and showed a mouthful of healthy, white teeth – something he lacked during most of his human life. “You know, Miss Bertie…nothin’ I ever read in the Bible prepared me for what this place is really like…I don’t think they’ve invented words yet to really describe this place!”

  “It does sort of leave you speechless,” Max sighed as he looked around him. “And you haven’t even experienced the best of it yet, Andrew…just wait until you move out of this phase.”

  “Which he is now ready to do!” Martin exclaimed. “You are free to move on today if you wish, Andrew.”

  Andrew looked around him and saw nothing but the beautiful golden glow that surrounded the area. “You mean, this isn’t it?”

  “Heavens, no!” laughed Bertie. “Did you really think this was all there was to Heaven? Oh, it’s going to be fun watching you see what’s coming next!”

  Bertie grabbed hold of one of Andrew’s arms and Martin took the other one. Max floated beside them as they moved through the crowd of souls waiting their turn to move forward to the next phase. “Excuse me!” Bertie bellowed. “Angels coming through, make way!”

  Max smiled over at Andrew and said. “Just to make this even more fun for Bertie, why don’t you close your eyes for just a moment Andrew…don’t open them until Bertie tells you to…”

  Andrew trusted the angels completely and did as Max requested. “Yessirree, Mr. Max…I am ready to see what’s next…”

  “Therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about its own things. Sufficient for today is its own trouble.” Matthew 6:34 (NKVJ)

  5. Spartacus Heals

  Spartacus sighed and rolled onto his side. Once again he had received a good meal and a belly rub by humans who, obviously, meant him no harm. The two people who watched over him now were not the same ones who had taken him in a couple of days ago and cared for his many wounds, fed him a hot meal, and offered him a soft blanket on which to lay his weary head. His eyes opened when the old, dark man began to speak.

  “I think he’s gonna be jes fine, Mr. Doug…if he hadn’t done got here when he did, though, those wounds woulda got really infected and he might not have made it…” Amos Brown spoke softly while stroking the dog’s exposed belly. “My Daddy taught me and Andrew when we was boys how to take care of animal wounds.”

  Doug, the third angel in the trio of angels who ran the Heavenly Grille Café, squatted down beside Amos and rubbed the dog’s head. “Your Daddy was a smart man, Amos; who would have ever thought of using sugar on open wounds!”

  Amos nodded and grinned his toothless grin. “Yessirree…plain and simple granulated sugar works good for most wounds, but we always liked making a paste of powdered sugar and cooking oil cause it covers and sticks to the wound better than just plain ‘ole sugar…that’s all it takes to get rid of any infection in open wounds…lots cheaper than those high falutin’ medicines they want you to use, too.”

  Spartacus licked one of those wounds and decided he liked the taste of this thing the old man called sugar. He closed his eyes again when the younger, white man rubbed his head. A feeling of calm and peace came over him, just like when the other black man had touched him that first night. He felt instantly safe.

  “Yes, I think Max and Bertie will be very pleased with the progress he’s made while they’ve been away today,” Doug smiled over at the old man who had been a steady customer of the café since it first opened at its current location in Monticello, Florida. “They should be getting back here any time now, Amos, if you want to head home…I can watch over this fella until they get back.”

  Amos rolled his head from side to side, to get the kinks out, and nodded. “Well, if you be sure you don’t mind, Mr. Doug, I am a bit tired. Might be a good idea if I took myself on home and got a little rest. I’ll be back tomorrow, though, to check on him. Don’t forget to use some more of that sugar paste on those legs wounds before you go to bed tonight; looks like his po’ legs took the brunt of the fighting; he’s lucky he didn’t lose that front, right one…got tore up pretty bad, but it’s gonna heal jes fine, yessirree…jes fine…”

  _____

  It was almost eleven o’clock when Bertie and Max suddenly appeared before Doug and the dog. Doug was leaning against the wall with his eyes closed, and the dog’s head lay in his lap.

  “Well!” Bertie laughed when she saw the lovable duo, “Angels don’t sleep, so I have to assume you’re praying there, handsome!”

  Doug opened one eye and grinned back at Bertie before nodding in agreement. “Glad you two are back. How was your visit Home?”

  “It was just what we needed, as usual,” Max spoke softly. He bent down and placed his large hand upon the dog’s head. “We saw Andrew Brown while we were there.”

  “No kidding!” Doug straightened up and repositioned the dog’s head upon his lap. “That’s great news. Amos will be glad to hear about that visit, for sure. He was here with me, all day, taking care of this fella. Have you ever heard about the healing powers of plain, old sugar…how it works wonders for healing open wounds? Check it out…”

  Max moved his hands over the dog and sighed. “Unbelievable at how quickly he is healing…sugar, you say? You know…it’s been centuries, but I do remember using a mixture of honey and grease back in my Gladiator days to heal wounds…for ourselves and the animals. Did Amos come up with that sugar remedy?”

  Doug smiled and nodded. “Yes, he did…said it was something his Daddy taught him and
Andrew a long time ago…looks like this fella is going to be just fine. Have you given any thought about what you’re going to do with him?”

  Max shook his head. “Not really…our primary concern was getting him healed…”

  “The restaurant has been closed today,” Bertie chimed in, “But…did you have any visitors?”

  Doug looked at the naughty angel and grinned. “How did you know, Bertie? As a matter of fact, remember that fella who was in here Friday night…the one you had a bad feeling about?’

  Bertie punched Max on the back of his shoulder. “See! I knew it! I knew he would come back! What did he want, handsome? He’s involved with this dog somehow, isn’t he? I knew it!”

  Spartacus opened his eyes when he heard Bertie’s excited voice. “Oh no…what man…is someone looking for me? Are these people going to give me back to the Abbotts? Or maybe they’re talking about that other man…the one who was nice to me when Little John wasn’t looking…what’s going on?”

  Max comforted the dog when it was obvious their loud talking had startled him. “It’s okay, boy…nothing for you to worry about…nobody is ever going to hurt you again…”

  Doug moved to a standing position and stretched his arms over his head. “Well…he was looking for a dog, but I don’t believe the story he told us. He drove up around two o’clock and peered through the front door. Amos and I were back here in the kitchen, but I sensed him at the front door. He walked around to the back wood line, then to the back porch. I think he was probably following the blood trail.”

  “Oh, no…” Bertie shook her head. “I knew it…I just knew he had something to do with this poor animal.”

  “The dog began whimpering when he sensed the man at the back door,” Doug continued. “He didn’t growl, didn’t shake…just whimpered a little bit, but it was loud enough that the man must have heard because the next thing he did was to knock on the back door. Amos wanted to handle him, but I insisted that he stay with the dog and let me talk to the man.”

  Max took the dog’s head between his two hands and looked deeply into its soulful, trusting eyes. “Go on, Doug…what did the man have to say?”

  “He introduced himself as Tyler Jones…said he worked for a rescue organization that took in abused animals…specifically…pit-bull mixes, and that he had been transporting a dog there when he stopped for gas and the dog escaped from the truck bed.”

  “Did you believe his story?” Bertie asked.

  “Not entirely,” Doug answered. “I don’t know…he was a little difficult to read, but I got the feeling that at least part of his story might be true. Anyway…while we were talking, the dog whimpered loud enough for the man to hear him. When I explained to him that we had found a hurt dog, he asked to see him.”

  “And you let him?” Bertie asked incredulously. “What were you thinking, handsome?”

  Max stood to his full height and put a hand on Bertie’s shoulder. “Calm down, Bertie. Doug did the right thing. We needed to find out what connection this man has to the dog.” He looked back at Doug and asked, “Did the dog seem to be afraid of the man?”

  Doug shook his head. “Not in the least. In fact, his tail began thumping against the floor and his ears, or at least what’s left of his ears, laid back flat when the man bent down to talk to him. No…it was obvious that the dog knew the man and trusted him, but…something about the man’s story just didn’t ring true to me, so I told him no when he asked he if could take the dog to the rescue’s farm…at least until I could do some research to check out the facts about the place.”

  “Did you check the information out?” Max asked.

  “I tried, yes…” Doug answered. “I couldn’t find anything on the internet or phone books about the place, but Tyler gave me the rescue’s phone number and I called after he left. A man by the name of B.B. Foster owns and operates a place in Brooksville, Florida called the Foster Farm. Mr. Foster confirmed that Tyler did work for him, and that they did, indeed, rescue abused and abandoned animals. I went a step further and asked him if Tyler Jones was involved, in any way, with dog fighting rings.”

  Max raised his eyebrows in surprise. “You did? Didn’t waste any time, did you?”

  “I was able to get a good reading off this man over the phone,” Doug explained. “This is a good man…an honest man. He did say there was more to Tyler’s story, but that neither of them was at liberty to explain it just yet. He said he had a spot waiting for this dog…whose name is Spartacus, by the way…”

  I heard my name and tried to stand up but my front legs were still weak from not using them for the past twenty-four hours. I lifted my head and whimpered. The kind, black man smiled at me and said, “Well…hello there, Spartacus…what a gallant name you have…” I looked at the loud, white woman who was also smiling down at me. I assumed that she must like my name, too. I was glad that the nice man who worked for the Abbotts told them what my name was…it sounds so much better than just “dog.” It was good to see that nice man again, but I was also pretty relieved when the man they called Doug refused to let him take me away, because I was afraid he would take me back to the Abbott place. I was so tired of fighting…I never wanted to hurt another dog again like Czar had hurt me…never…

  “He looks like a Spartacus,” Bertie grinned. “Okay…so where do we stand now with this Tyler fella? Is he coming back to get Spartacus?”

  “He wanted to,” Doug continued, “But I told him we would call him once we had decided on what needed to be done. Funny thing, though…right after he left, guess who called?”

  “Who?” Max asked.

  “Amanda!” Doug smiled when Bertie began to clap her hands in delight. “Yeah…and you won’t believe where she was at when she called…”

  “You’re keeping us in suspense on purpose, aren’t you?” Bertie chastised him.

  Doug laughed and shook his head. “Not on purpose, Bertie…it’s just that…well…things really do happen as they are meant to, I guess. Today was Amanda’s day off and she was helping out that animal shelter place she volunteers at; she offered to take a load of dogs to another rescue organization, located in Brooksville, Florida…care to guess which one?”

  Max and Bertie stood dumbfounded for just a moment before staring at each other and bursting out in laughter. “No!” Bertie shouted. “Not the Foster Farm?”

  Doug nodded. “Yep…she was just leaving Foster Farm, met the whole family, and verified that it is a rescue organization that goes out of its way to help abused and abandoned dogs and cats, but most especially…and get this…the owner has a passion for rescuing pit-bull mixes that have been victims of…dog-fighting rings…”

  Bertie punched Doug on the shoulder and shouted, “Well, praise the Lord! He truly is everywhere, isn’t he…he knows what’s going on everywhere, every second of the day…our God sent Amanda to that place…He knew that we needed her there to make this connection to Spartacus…truly amazing…”

  “Well,” Doug nodded as he pulled a piece of paper from the back pocket of his jeans. “Here’s Tyler’s contact information.” He handed the paper to Max. “I told him you would be in touch after we had a chance to check out his information. I told Amanda about the situation we had here. She said that she’s got a few days off coming to her and that she would be glad to drive here tomorrow and take Spartacus back to Foster Farm.”

  Max sighed and looked around the room. “Well…it’s been a long day…let me think all this over tonight and I’ll call Amanda in the morning with our decision. I’ll call Tyler Jones, too, and let him know what we’ve decided. I’d like to meet this young man first, though, before I tell him anything about our decision. I trust Amanda’s opinion of Foster Farm…it seems like a safe place for Spartacus to go. It’s probably a good idea to get him as far away from Monticello as we can…we have no idea who was responsible for fighting him, or whether they are looking for him. We could be inviting a lot of trouble into the situation.”

  “Humph…”
Bertie grunted. “None of us has ever run away from trouble, so I say, bring it on. We’ve got to do what’s best for Spartacus, though…as much as I’d like to keep him here with us, I think he needs to get away from Monticello, too, and…as soon as possible.”

  Spartacus took a deep breath and pushed himself to a standing position. His front legs wobbled but he managed to maintain a standing position and lifted his head high. He looked into the eyes of the three people who had taken such good care of him. He trusted them explicitly and nodded his assent to them.

  “Did you see that!” Bertie exclaimed. “I think he understood everything we just said!”

  Max smiled. “I can assure you that he did, Bertie, and…you may eventually be able to know exactly what Spartacus is thinking.”

  Spartacus sighed. “Well of course I understood everything you said…why is it that humans seem to think we animals are inferior to their intelligence?” He wobbled over to each of them and licked their hands. “I may not be able to actually talk to them, but maybe I can make them understand what they need to know…maybe they’re smart enough to get what I need to tell them…” He barked happily, turned around, lay back down on his soft blanket, closed his eyes, and fell fast asleep.

  6. Amanda’s Parents Contact Her

  It was eleven o’clock, Sunday night, when Amanda took Buster outside to do his business. The young pup made his rounds, sniffing the fence line and checking to ensure his mistress was safe and protected. He may have been only four months old, but he already knew that his primary mission in life was to protect Amanda Turner at all costs; she had saved his life by adopting him and loving him like he was sure no other human ever could.

  “Okay, come on, Buster…it’s been a long day…time for bed,” Amanda whispered loudly, trying to get the pup’s attention without disturbing her neighbors.