Where Mercy Is Shown, Mercy Is Given - Duane Dog Chapman [72]
The whole time I was thinking, Come get a piece of me. I’ll be here for you if you need anything. I’ll take the time out, whether ten seconds or ten minutes, to hear what you have to say. And then I thought I should be saying what I was thinking in my head out loud.
I announced to the crowd, “Come up here if you need something. Come forward.” And they all came. I have never experienced anything like that outpouring of emotion. For just a few minutes, Dog and Jesus were as thick as thieves. It was the ultimate power trip and I loved every minute.
I was proud to be God’s Dog that day, just as I have been proud to be Beth’s Dog, Mary Ellen’s Dog, and so many others over the years. In my mind, I have a direct connection to the Lord. If someone asks me to pray for them, I will. I don’t always get an answer, but God always hears my prayers.
A few months after that appearance, I received a call from the people at the Make-A-Wish Foundation asking me to meet a fifteen-year-old boy who was dying. I try to fulfill these requests whenever I can because they are so meaningful to the terminally ill child and to me. When we met, the boy looked really frail and weak, and it was pretty obvious he didn’t have long to live. Most of the time, parents of the sick children I meet will tell me that they haven’t told their kid how ill they are and they don’t know they’re dying. The parents will ask me not to talk about it with their children, especially if the kids don’t know they’re terminal.
When I met this young man, he immediately told me he was scared. When I asked what he was afraid of, the young boy said, “Dying.” I began to tell him the story of a dream I once had when I was about his age. I was walking along a path when a flower stopped me cold.
“Good morning, Dog,” the flower said.
“Hello, flower,” I answered. I wasn’t sure why the flower was talking to me.
“Where are we?” I asked.
“This is heaven. Everything that was once alive is here now.”
I looked around and began to see many familiar things. There was Max, the horny toad I had when I was a boy. Behind him was my old dog, Cookie, and behind him was King, the dog my grandpa made me shoot because he got too old. There were three ducks and a bird, too.
“What did Max look like?” the boy asked.
“He still had the same fat yellow belly.”
“And the ducks? Why were they there?”
The truth is, I wasn’t sure why the ducks were there, so I shrugged my shoulders and said, “I drowned those bastards,” which made the boy laugh.
I pulled a feather from my coat pocket and showed it to him. I told him some Apache Indian friends had given me this feather for long life, freedom, joy, and a peaceful soul. When I handed it to him I said, “Anytime you need strength, you take this feather in your hand and hold it close to your chest.”
The boy reached out for the feather and wrapped his frail fingers around the stem. He looked up at me and asked, “What’s going to happen, Dog?”
Whenever I find I don’t have the right words to say, I always fall back on scripture because God always has the right thing to say.
“The Bible says, ‘Yea though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I shall fear no evil for Thou art with me.’” I paused for a moment to make sure the boy was looking into my eyes. “When you die, son, there will be a light,” I told him. “Get ready because you’re going to walk through this valley called the shadow of death. It’ll be spooky, but fear not, little brother, because He’s there. He’s like your bow and arrow, your tomahawk. As you walk through the valley, you may see demons