The Purpose of the Puppy Search

"Then time stopped for a second as I realized she was about to cry. Was she having sudden remorse for giving away the dog? I looked closer and felt my soul being drawn toward a familiar place. She was fighting back the tears of recent loss and unresolved grief."

It began as a clearly random encounter in a local pet store one Sunday after church. Lee, my teenage son, and I were turning into the parking lot of a popular restaurant. I noticed white tents occupying a portion of the parking lot and banners proclaiming a pet sale sponsored by the Humane Society. I immediately said to Lee, “We need to get another dog.”

He looked at me as if I’d had a sudden loss of consciousness. We already have too much going on to spend time with our dog waiting to be fed at home. I’d had this thought before, and had even searched online for a breed that might mix well with Kylee, our mostly-basset hound. She seems lonely to me, and the fact that we are so busy gave us only limited time to spend with her. This was the very reason I had thought about finding a companion for my canine.

Today was different though because I wasn’t just thinking that it might be nice to have another pet, but I just knew we were meant to find our new dog in this very parking lot. After lunch, I still thought that there was a dog under those white tents who belonged at my house. Lee and I drove a full circle around the tented dog sale, slowly enough for me to see that there were several metal kennels and lots of people being walked around by a variety of dogs. I parked the car, telling myself that it would just take a minute to scurry through the kennel maze and prove to Lee that we were supposed to find a dog here.

There were lots of big dogs, a few medium-size dogs, but no puppies that could be trained by my Kylee in the ways of our family. I asked several of the volunteers which one of these dogs would mix well with a basset hound. Amazingly, they all were likely candidates according to the Humane Society volunteers. But I knew none of these dogs were going home with me.

As I began to doubt my conviction, a volunteer pointed out that some new dogs had just arrived fresh from the shelter. Perhaps one of these dogs would be more to my liking. Although they were all quite likable, I knew that I still had not met the right dog. Then one of the volunteers suggested that I go inside the pet store, and then I realized why the tents had been erected in this particular parking lot.

She said, “We have puppies inside that belong to the shelter, but it’s too hot out here for them.” A puppy was just what I had in mind, so Lee and I headed inside to the makeshift area that had been set up for the Society dogs. It was conveniently, although not subtly, placed in front of the pet store display of dogs and cats for full-price sale. There were only two puppies left, brothers from the same litter. I knew why they were left behind while the other pups were already snuggled up in the homes of new families. These poor mutts had absolutely no personality, and they had balled themselves into one furry clump as if to say, “We are inseparable.” The shelter volunteer assigned to watch over them sat in a chair close by to keep the hands of dozens of curious children at bay. These two little pups were exhausted and scared to death of the groping, reaching hands of all the kids who begged to hold them.

They were not my puppies either. I knew they needed to stay together and the idea of two puppies was even more than I could justify to Lee, who was still looking bewildered. Then suddenly I saw him, a beagle puppy in the arms of another middle-aged woman. She had just selected a cat collar to go with a long dog-walking leash. Not only was she holding my dog, she didn’t even know the difference between a dog vs cat collar. I heard myself saying out loud to anyone who would listen, “There he is, just the dog I had in mind.” The startled volunteer countered, “But that dog isn’t for sale. That’s her dog, not one of ours. You can’t have her dog!”

The woman holding the dog didn’t see me because her attention was directed to the store manager. She had a friend with her who was obviously in charge of whatever it was they were doing there. After a brief introduction, the store manager gently explained to the woman that the store could not sell any pets except those sent from the company. The woman assured the manager that she didn’t want to sell the puppy, but wanted to leave it at the pet store to be given to anyone who would have it. The manager tried again to explain how that just wouldn’t work with the store’s policy. The woman with the puppy was disappointed, and her friend argued the point on her behalf. And, all the while, her little beagle puppy was looking at me.

Suddenly the shelter volunteer pointed to me and announced, “She wants that dog!” All eyes turned to me as I nodded and smiled at the puppy. At that moment, the friend in charge walked boldly up to me. “Tell me about your home,” she demanded. I muttered something about a 3-bedroom/2-bath house in town as she surveyed me from head to toe. “Where do you work, what do you do, how old are your kids, and do they like dogs?” all spewed from her lips. The barrage of questions could not interfere with the intense gaze shared between the pup and me.

As the arms of the woman holding the pup reached out to me, she said, “Do you want to hold him?” He weighed only ounces as he sat upon one hand while I stroked his back with the other hand. He rested his head on my shoulder, as he snuggled into my heart. The transition was complete as his now-former owner handed over the dog leash and new cat collar. “I don’t know if this will fit him,” she said, “and I haven’t paid for it yet if you want to choose a different one.” As I passed the cat collar to Lee, I asked him to find a little-bit-larger dog collar. She then explained that she had a portable kennel, a bag of food, a blanket and a few dog toys she would gladly throw into the deal if I would just take him home.

I began to tell her about Kylee and why I wanted a new puppy, and she began telling her story to me. Someone had given her the puppy just last week to console her on the recent death of her mother. There we stood in the middle of the crowded pet store with all those kids, the shelter volunteer, the inquisitive friend, and the store manager watching our exchange. Somehow I managed to pay for the new collar while she loaded down Lee’s arms with the dog care items. The puppy licked my face and made little whining sounds, but took no notice of anyone else.

As we walked into the sunshine, I thought, “Mission accomplished.” I had found the dog that I was sent to rescue, and I couldn’t wait to get him home to meet Kylee. The woman whose name I had not even bothered to ask followed us to the car still explaining why she could not keep the puppy. I was trying to listen as Lee loaded up the back seat, climbed into the passenger seat, and reached out to take the puppy.

Then time stopped for a second as I realized she was about to cry. Was she having sudden remorse for giving away the dog? I looked closer and felt my soul being drawn toward a familiar place. She was fighting back the tears of recent loss and unresolved grief. “My mom just died, and I am 52 years old, and I’ve never lived with anyone else except her.” she said. Tears flooded from her eyes as painful words fell heavily from her lips.

Swallowing hard, I made myself look deep into her eyes. “I am a widow,” I said. “My husband died ten years ago, and I know something about the loss you are feeling right now.” A smile crossed her face as she said, “You do understand, don’t you? The dog won’t bring back my mom, and I just don’t feel like taking care of anything else right now. I don’t even think I can take care of me, but I have to try, don’t I?” 

“Yes,” I said, “you do have to find a way to go on with your life every day. Just take it slowly, doing just what has to be done at first, and then you can take on more things as time goes on.” I reached into my purse for a business card as I said, “This is my phone number, and here is my email address. You can call me anytime you need to talk to someone. And you can come by to check on the puppy anytime.” She wrote her name and number on another card and gave it to me. “Maybe we could go walking some time?” she asked. “Sure, we could,” I said as I thought how many times I had promised myself that I would start walking soon. “I need to get some exercise, and we can walk the puppy while we talk.”

As Lee and I drove home with the curious and suddenly lively little puppy, I realized the afternoon’s mission had nothing to do with finding a new family pet. It was this woman whose soul was seared with grief that I had been sent to find. She needed a word of encouragement from someone who had survived the depths of indescribable pain. We would exchange a couple of phone calls, but we didn’t continue the exchange all the way to the walking park. She was glad to let go of the dog, and in some way this letting go enabled her to move forward with her life.

"Bear one another's burdens, and so fulfill the law of Christ" 

(Galatians 6:2). 

LORD, help me to be aware of people around me who are hurting and need encouragement. Allow me to take the time to be a friend to those who are lonely and hurting. Thank you for the opportunity to share my faith when I meet people who need your love. In Jesus' name, Amen.

The American Flag Through the Eyes of a Veteran

The phone call had surprised me. Jerry’s brother, Claude, was saying that he was passing through town on the way to his weekend guard duty. Could he come by and visit with us? “Sure, that would be fine, but Jerry is out of town, gone to a training class for his new job,” I answered. He said he would still like to come by to see the kids. I answered his knock at the door, and thought how much more he looked like his dad. Usually he looked so much more like Jerry, but age was favoring his dad now that he was over 40. Claude, Jr. was the oldest of the seven brothers and sisters. Jerry was in the middle somewhere.

The kids were clinging to his pants legs and he carried Gloria riding on his foot as he made his way to the sofa. He hadn’t been able to get here for Jerry’s retirement at the base. No one in the family had made it. It had been just the guys in the squadron and me. We wisely chose not to bring the girls and baby Lee. I had driven to the base by myself, and Jerry’s commander and I tried to talk him out of retirement and back into another tour of duty. The recent promotion to Sr. Master Sergeant had come with a remote tour overseas. Jerry was the most committed family man I had ever known, and he was not going to leave his family. I knew that I was not going to the island of Guam with a newborn and two little girls. Retirement was Jerry’s only option in his way of thinking. The only thing I remember from the ceremony was fighting back tears of regret for the shortened military career of a man who had never planned to retire less than Chief Master Sergeant. I knew that the regret would eat him alive from within and that I would be the reason for it. I vaguely remember seeing him receive the flag that had flown over the Capitol in Washington D.C., which was provided by our state representative. We sort of knew him because his right-hand-man was an active member of our church.

“Oh, I want to show you Jerry’s flag!” I said to Claude, as I rushed down the hallway to get it from the bedroom where it was mounted in a triangular display case. I took it out, and said, “It flew over the Capitol, you know.” As I turned to face Claude, he stood to his full height and reached his arms forward to receive the American flag. As I walked across the room toward him, there was a hollow ringing sound in my ears. I heard my voice, as if it were very far away. I didn’t have time to think about what I was saying. My eyes locked with those of my brother-in-law and the world blurred into slow motion. I watched his face as the flag slowly passed from my hands to his. I saw his eyes drop from my face to the stripes of red and white and stars on a field of blue. Somehow I knew that I would never see this man again. I swallowed hard, and I forced the dark, bitter-strong thought from my mind. He was beaming with pride and his eyes glistened as he looked at this precious symbol of the freedom he had fought for in Viet Nam. I was faint and nausea was rising in my throat as the brown carpet swirled at my feet.

Jerry came home that night and I made my voice light and unconcerned as I told him how Claude had played with the children, and that I hoped he didn’t mind that I had taken the flag out of the case to show it to his brother.  When the phone call came from their sister three days later, I was not even surprised. I drove out to the base, and I wept as I told Jerry that his big brother, Claude, had died. He didn’t seem to understand what I was saying at first, and then he put his hand on his forehead and sank back in the chair at this desk. I never told him of the slow-motion premonition. I don’t recall ever telling anyone at all.

We drove to the family hometown in north Alabama. It didn’t occur to us to drive over to the base where Claude had been serving weekend guard duty, although it was only a couple of hours from our house. When we arrived with all the children in tow, Grandpa’s house was full of family. As an only-child, this big family had taken some getting used to for me. We sat in the kitchen with the rest of the family trying to comfort their daddy. He was a man of very few words, and there were no words at all for this day. Someone finally said that he wanted his oldest boy brought home, and that it just wasn’t fair to have to wait a week for the funeral service. I didn’t fully understand, but I knew something was not happening the way it should be. Why would they wait a week to have the service? The sisters put together an explanation about the confusion that was delaying the body being shipped home. “See, Claude, Jr. was in the Army Guard, but they sent his troop to work at the Air Force Base in Florida,” the sisters explained. “The Army has no control over when the Air Force will release the body,” they continued, “and Daddy is upset about it.” 

I walked to the phone and said, “I need to make a few calls, ok?” Our church office had the phone number for our state representative’s right-hand-man. After thanking him for sending Jerry’s retirement flag, I told him about the circumstances we were facing. I explained that Jerry’s brother’s body was being held at the base at Eglin and the Air Force wouldn’t release it.” 

“Do you know where I am?” this friend-of-our-family asked. “And, do you know who is right here with me?” he continued. I had no idea that he and our state representative were at that very moment at Eglin Air Force Base. The number given to me by the church secretary had been forwarded to a meeting room directly across the street from the office where the decision would be made to release the body of my husband’s brother that same afternoon. 

How marvelous are His ways! We all acknowledged that God had indeed intervened to unravel the red tape on our behalf.

"O the depth of the riches both of the wisdom and knowledge of God! How unsearchable are his judgments, and his ways untraceable!" 

Romans 11:33

LORD, thank you for the riches you give us through your wisdom. You know what we need even before we experience the loss and sorrow of grief. Keep our tender hearts in your care always. In Jesus' name, Amen.