Looking for You

We don’t always get what we want, and sometimes we get what we didn’t know we need. We buried my faithful canine companion in the foggy morning sunrise today. My Pincho (sister) and I did it together. It was peaceful; a resting place for his furry body. He was 15 years old, and we had the gift of sharing the last 7 of those years. I didn’t find him online or in a newspaper ad, not even at a shelter. I was looking for something else when he chose me.

Epiphany 2017; a very cold January day, one of the coldest of the year. My sister and I drove to Kentucky in pursuit of a white dog that had been posted online as available in a shelter. We were there several hours before opening time but we were still second in line for this dog. By the time the shelter opened there were 15 cars in the parking lot, all in pursuit of this one white dog. I guess we all thought he was perfect.

“First person in line gets dibs on the dog”, they announced it well before 10am so no one would be disappointed. We took our chances. I’d waited 16 months since Tiki (another faithful companion) died. He was my partner in work, my companion at home. It took a long time to be ready to do it all again. Sometimes we really do have to pace our hearts.

While we waited I let my cousin know we were near, in case we needed a reference. We were crossing state lines to go to KY where this certain white dog was waiting in the shelter. The shelter finally opened. The man that was first in line definitely wanted the white dog, and we accepted our fate. I looked at all the dogs in the shelter that morning; none was the dog for me.

Just as we were leaving my cousin texted me to ask if we’d been able to get the dog we had hoped we could have. I shared the story and that we were soon to be on our way home to TN, without a dog and still glad we tried. And then my cousin said the thing we didn’t expect to hear.
“One of my friends just posted that they are looking for a home for their dog. Do you want to meet him?”

Thinking it couldn’t hurt anything, we headed that way. Within ten minutes we were standing in the kitchen of a family home. There was a mom and three young boys (the dad wasn’t home at that moment), and there was this little dog running around the house. While we were just standing there, hearing their story, this little black & white shitzu named “Oreo” came straight over to me, sat down at my feet, and looked up at me as if to clearly speak, “I am going home with you!”

In a true whirlwind, within five or ten minutes we are loading the truck with a dog bed, food, pee pads, toys, and Oreo. I’d never been “chosen” in that way before by a completely strange dog that had no reason to like me. It was very clear, Oreo was going home with me.

There is always a lot to every family’s story. And no one can ever fully know someone else’s story. In this case the little boys were growing up and playing soccer and all the things. It was a busy family life, and Oreo was showing signs of not being pleased with the competing schedules. They were his third owner…I would be the fourth. His original person was elderly and died, leaving him to a surviving relative. He stayed with them for a year, but schedules were a challenge and a new home was found …with this family of five. It was perfect for about three years. But there is more.

There had been a situation where Oreo was missing for three weeks in the winter. It was cold in Kentucky and somehow, he survived on his own, but went through a very difficult time. He lost all of his hair and a lot of weight. And just when they had given up all hope of ever finding him, someone called. He had shown up at their door and he needed help. He still had on his collar. Soon he was reunited with his family and they began helping him get restored to health. When we met him, he was looking good; his tail was thin and really the only sign that anything had ever happened.

I brought him home to TN. He was not the breed I was hoping for, nor the age or size, or anything else for that matter. But there was no mistake about him choosing me as we stood in that kitchen. He wanted to come home with me and I didn’t feel like I could do anything except bring him home. And for a whole year, I didn’t take him anywhere. I spent a lot of time with him and tried to give him a sense that he wasn’t going to be going anywhere else; he was “home”. We got to know one another. He slowly began to trust that I was going to be “his” and that he was safe. And I slowly began to accept that he was the dog I needed.

So we went to work. Almost every day. Whatever I was doing, I put him to doing it too. And he excelled.

He did all the work and was fabulous at it! He seemed to know his job: encouragement and love.

He also learned to love “us”. He was included in the family gatherings, as most dogs do. He was able to express love and appreciation, even entertain whoever showed up for the “there’s always room for one more” invitation. I was so grateful to see him embrace this life!

There is so much more! For today…I just want to honor what a gift Oreo was to my life and to the work we shared. I’m grateful he didn’t suffer in this life when he was old. I’m thankful we had so many moments to make clear that we knew the blessing we’d been given. I’m glad he chose me on that cold Epiphany in 2017. And by God’s grace I was able to receive what was being given.