Great Dog Stories (13 page)

The match was perfect! Isabella, the beautiful papillon, lived in luxury at her new home. She spent hours sitting on my friend’s lap. My friend’s tired heart grew fresh once again. Her smile came back and she had a lighter step in everything she did. She thanked God for her little puppy and gave Him the glory when her son came home safely from proudly serving his country.

Although she had wanted this puppy for many years, God gave her the dog in His time. He also brought me this story in His time. Even though this particular friend lives less than a mile from me, we never seem to get together. But one day not long ago, she emailed me and we decided to have lunch. We had a wonderful time and I told her about this book. She shared her puppy story with me. Had the timing of our lunch been different, I know I would have loved hearing the tale, but it might not have found its way into these pages.

God’s puppy timing in my friend’s life was perfect, even though she felt she’d had to wait a long time. The same was true for a biblical character named Joseph. He was a Hebrew whose jealous brothers had sold him into slavery in Egypt. He had been falsely accused and wound up in prison. After a time, two of Pharaoh’s officials wound up in the prison too. Joseph interpreted their dreams correctly. When one of them, the cupbearer, was freed, Joseph begged the man to remember him to Egypt’s ruler. But the cupbearer forgot Joseph for two full years—until Pharaoh himself had troubling dreams that no one understood. Then the cupbearer recalled how Joseph had interpreted his dream. Joseph was brought to the Egyptian ruler, successfully interpreted a dream that foretold a famine, and became second-in-command to Pharaoh himself. Joseph was used by God to preserve not just Egypt, but his own Hebrew family in the time of famine.

God knew just when Joseph needed to be brought to Pharaoh’s attention. He knew just when my friend needed a little bundle of papillon joy! And we can trust that His timing is perfect in our lives as well, because He is infinitely wiser than we are and He loves us!

There is a time for everything, and a season
for every activity under the heavens.

E
CCLESIASTES
3:1

N
ancy’s dog Rascal could’ve been a furry stuffed animal. He was that cute. With his soft, fuzzy coat and warm teddy bear eyes, he was impossible not to hug. Even people who disliked dogs were disarmed by his charm and playful personality.

Rascal’s name fit him to a tee when he was a puppy—simultaneously sweet and rambunctious. As he aged he never lost his sweet spirit, but physically he began to slow down. First came the arthritis. Rascal would pull himself along on his front legs, painfully dragging his stricken hind legs behind him. Nancy put special booties on his feet so he wouldn’t rip open his claws and bleed.

Then came the cataracts that dimmed his vision. When it got dark outside, Nancy turned on the bright pool lights so he could navigate by seeing the shadows. The family became extra vigilant because Rascal had stumbled into the pool a few times and had needed to be rescued. Even their new puppy was keeping a watchful eye. Nancy would occasionally witness the little dog blocking Rascal’s errant path and steering him away from the pool.

Rascal became incontinent. He couldn’t control his bladder. Instead of going out to the backyard, he’d stagger to his feet and relieve himself in the den. Nancy switched his sleeping quarters from the living room to the laundry room, where the floor was tile.

About this time, Nancy’s husband and eldest son broached the subject of putting Rascal down. But Nancy wouldn’t have it. She knew in her heart it wasn’t time. Rascal still greeted her with a smile and wagged his tail when she patted his head. His body may have been weak but his spirit was alive and well. So what if dear Rascal occasionally wet the floor? That’s not a sin punishable by death! Nancy wondered how her loved ones would treat her if she were in Rascal’s shoes. “The first time I need Depends, I’m out the door, huh?” she joked.

Rascal lost control of his bowels next. As he began to regularly soil himself, Nancy and her husband would wake up extra early before going to work to bathe him. It was becoming more and more time-consuming and stressful to care for their rapidly deteriorating pet. Still, Nancy would not entertain the thought of ending Rascal’s life.

She just knew it wasn’t time.

Rascal still enjoyed his meals. He did his best to play with the puppy, albeit only for a few seconds before tiring. And whenever Nancy held Rascal close, she experienced the same loving warmth that bonded them the first time she held him as a puppy. No matter what anyone else said, she knew Rascal wasn’t ready to go.

Then, on a certain Friday in October that Nancy will never forget, things changed.

Nancy came downstairs in the morning to find Rascal whimpering. The sound cut Nancy like a knife. Not once in Rascal’s 16-and-a-half years had she ever heard him cry. Nancy’s heart broke and the tears came.

She knew it was time.

Rascal’s medications could no longer suppress the pain. Nancy could handle the extreme caregiving, but not Rascal suffering. She found it difficult to sleep that night. At work the next day, she couldn’t get Rascal off her mind. When she got home, Nancy called the vet. Through tears, she told the woman on the phone that she thought she and Rascal were ready. The compassionate voice on the line assured her the doctor would be available tomorrow and that if Nancy changed her mind, it would be okay.

Nancy sat alone with Rascal, wanting to be sure beyond a shadow of a doubt that she was making the right decision. She had 12 hours to change her mind. Nancy desperately wanted someone to talk to. At that moment, a good friend dropped by. As they spoke about Rascal, he began to whimper and moan. It was further confirmation. Then, Nancy’s youngest son came home. She asked what he thought about Rascal. Up to now, he had never voiced an opinion. He took a moment, then said, “Mom, it’s time.”

That night, the family gathered around Rascal. Nancy got down on the floor and lay beside him, holding him in her arms. As they all said their good-byes, Nancy recalled something she had read in a devotional: “Let go, let God.” She realized the power of life and death ultimately lay in God’s hands.

Nancy let go.

She and her husband brought Rascal to the vet in the morning. Rascal didn’t go down as quickly as planned. His breathing slowed, his head flopped down, but his heart kept on beating. It was as if he was trying to hang on just a little longer. Maybe Nancy was ready to let go, but what if Rascal wasn’t?

Nancy leaned down and whispered in his ear that she loved him, that she would miss him greatly, and that she would always remember him. She assured him it was okay to go because she would be all right. Rascal took a final breath and let go.

From that moment on, Nancy has felt only peace. Even through sadness and tears, not once has she doubted her decision. If she had allowed Rascal to linger on and suffer, she’s sure this peace would have eluded her.

“Let go, let God” was the key. When Nancy acknowledged God was infinitely more qualified than she in matters of life and death, she knew His timing was perfect. Ecclesiastes 3:1-2 (
NASB
) tells us, “There is an appointed time for everything…A time to give birth and a time to die.”

When I thought about how much consideration and heart went into Nancy’s decision as to the appointed time for Rascal, it got me thinking about how much consideration and heart goes into God’s decisions concerning our appointed times.

Actually it’s unfathomable. It’s beyond my wildest comprehension. I don’t know the words that can remotely touch how God must feel about setting the appointed times for all living creatures, past, present and future—including you and me.

Nancy had to deal with one beloved dog.

God has dealt with untold billions of human beings over countless centuries. Every one of these lives and deaths are as individual as snowflakes, no two alike, each with an infinite number of possibilities. But we all share one thing in common: We all have a time to die.

The only question is…when?

Genesis 5:27 tells us, “Methuselah lived a total of 969 years, and then he died.” God’s appointed time for this Old Testament guy was nearly a millenium.

Matthew 2:16 reveals the opposite end of the spectrum. “When Herod realized that he had been outwitted by the Magi, he was furious, and he gave orders to kill all the boys in Bethlehem and its vicinity who were two years old and under.” For those little boys, their appointed time was less than two years. That seems terribly wrong. Who in their right mind would decide that two years is the appointed time for any human being?

But the Bible says God cares about us more than sparrows and lilies of the field. This may be controversial for some dog lovers, but I think God loves us even
more
than we love our dogs. Yes, that much. As Nancy let go and let God with regards to Rascal, the same comfort and peace is available to you and me in our times of loss and grieving. And it’s always good to remember to Whom we’re letting go. Not a cold and distant God who doles out appointed times like a heartless lottery machine, but a God who dwells so close we can feel His very presence.

Our God resides in our hearts.

Our God is the very same God who sent His precious only Son to die on the cross at an appointed time…for
us
.

God is mysterious. His ways and thoughts are higher than ours. God is love. And in that love is the greatest reason why we should let go and let Him. You may have heard it a million times. You may have memorized it in Sunday school when you were little. But have you visited it lately? It’s the marvelous promise found in John 3:16.

The only thing we have to fear is fear itself.

F
RANKLIN
D. R
OOSEVELT

W
hen a young couple moved in next door we met the new neighbors, but not their dog. Visiting them was not that easy, because they were very busy. They were fixing up their beautiful home and large yard with a pool, guesthouse, and horse facilities. They both had demanding jobs as well.

I wasn’t sure what all their pets were, but I was aware of their large, frightening dog. I hadn’t seen him, but I had heard his huge, bellowing bark. I was just sure that if our little Squitchey got in his way, he could gobble her up in one bite. And when we had a big rain, I knew Squitchey would have an easy job of digging her way under the fence until my husband, Steve, could repair each soft place with rocks.

One day Squitchey heard the man next door working on his yard. She didn’t know the property boundaries and was out to protect her family. She dug her way under the fence and barked furiously at him with all seven pounds of her spirited little body. Steve heard the ruckus and ran out to save the neighbor. I figured if the man’s dog had been with him, Squitchey would have more than met her match—which made me all the more nervous about this “monster.” Every time Scary Larry (as I had nicknamed him) barked, I felt compelled to check our backyard for Squitchey to make sure she had not become his next meal.