Is That You?

Scene One:  Late for work.  “Put the dog in the pen.” I was in the car with the kids.  They were young and certainly hadn’t just said that to me.  But there had been a voice just the same.  I argued back in my head.  “She’s gotten out of the pen every day.  I’m late.  I don’t have time for that.  She’ll be out when I get back no matter what I do right now.”  “Put the dog in the pen.  She might have grown over the weekend. Maybe she won’t get out this time,”  the voice came again, speaking reason.  “No.” And I left.

Annabelle Irene.  What a sweet dog she was!  We’d grown to love her dearly in the few weeks we’d had her.  But what a little Houdini!  We had a fenced area in front of the dog door that lead into the shop, but we couldn’t keep her there.  We’d made numerous improvements trying to fix the holes, but she found or created a new exit every day.  We would put her in the fence in the morning.  She would greet us in the driveway every evening.  She was just a puppy, but she hadn’t run off.  Today would be no different.

I was working on some charts when Jeff called that afternoon.  He had gone home early for some reason.  “Are you all done seeing patients?”  “I am.”  There was something in his tone that made me uncomfortable.  Something wasn’t right.  “What’s up?”  “I hit Annie when I came in the drive.”  “Ok.  Did you take her to the vet?  Did anything get broken?”  “She’s dead.”

Scene Two:  Spring downpour.  It was raining so hard against my windshield it was hard for the wipers to keep up.  I was headed home and was approaching the last house before the road turned to gravel.  “Garage Sale” the sign said.  There weren’t many garage sales in our neighborhood.  The houses were too far apart and the traffic too infrequent to make it worth doing.  And what a terrible day for a sale!  I’d heard the gal was moving.  It hadn’t worked out with her boyfriend who owned the house next door.  “Stop!” came the voice.  “I don’t want to stop.  It’s pouring down rain.  I don’t want to buy anything.  I don’t even know her really.”  “Stop!” the voice said again.  “No.”  And I drove on.

Scene Three: Hot sunny afternoon.  I pulled in the drive with groceries to unload.  “Roll down the windows,” came the voice.  “No.  It might rain.  I don’t leave my car windows down.”  “Roll down the windows.”  “No.”  I turned the car off and unloaded the groceries.  Soon I was busy doing other things inside the house with the windows in the car closed tight.

The next morning Jeff got one of the horses saddled up and was giving lessons to our daughter in the round pen.  “It’s quiet out there,” I thought.  “Too quiet.”  We had a Jack Russel Terrier.  She was 5 years old, but had more energy than most puppies.  She was always underfoot when the horses were out.  But not today.  It was quiet.  I asked Jeff about her.  He hadn’t seen her.  I went looking.  And I found her motionless body in my car.  Her inquisitive mind had been her demise.  She had evidently jumped in the car while I was getting the groceries out.  If only I had rolled down the windows…

Is that You?  Were You talking to me, trying to teach me Your voice?  I’m sorry, Lord.  I’m sorry I didn’t listen.  And I’m sorry, Lord, for whatever I missed with my neighbor.  I pray that You will use someone else to do the work I did not do for You that day.  Teach me again, Lord.  I want to know You.

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1 Comment

  1. Such hard lessons we have to go through sometimes… But yet isn’t it wonderful to know God cares about even out pets? Good post!

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