The Dog I Can't Stop Thinking About

Yesterday evening I got back from Disneyland with my Mom. It was a good trip, but as we were leaving for California last week something strange happened: A dog was sitting at the end of our street.  At first I thought it was a cat! (And I just got new glasses! :P ) But the little cream colored chihuahua was sitting dead center at the end of the road, watching us as we slowly approached, the dog's collar indicating it had a home.

When we reached the dog and stopped, it ran and hid in some bushes, peaking shyly to look at us.  I craned my neck to see it and the dog did the same before running off!  This dog running to the right, looking over it's shoulder, knowing we weren't following, and speeding out of sight.  We then turned left.

That sort of thing has never happened to me, which is why this event keeps running through my brain.  Did the dog want us to follow?  Was it in trouble? Lost? Did my Mom and I fail in not pursuing?

Or were we protected from an accident?  Driving through Utah on the I-15 tends to be pretty calm for the most part, but around Las Vegas and Primm the highway gets congested and drivers reckless.  There were a couple cars in particular that swerved within tight margins around people, ourselves included.  Then many, many miles down the road there was a crash involving these two cars and a family van. Could being slowed down by the dog, and therefore creating a chain of different events, allowed us to miss this crash?  

Oh, it's hard to say.  And in the end it could have simply been a coincidence.  Nothing special.  An ordinary moment at six in the morning... so ordinary it's the first time it's happened to me. :P

I don't know! I just hope the dog is okay and with their family. And I need to calm my overactive imagination. :\ But I am glad my Mom and I are safe, and I hope the cars involved in the accident are okay.

 

Sarah

 

The Miracle with My Grandpa's Dog

My Grandpa passed in 2018, but before doing so he had a super loyal dog named Ginger.  She was a dachshund/Chihuahua mix, golden in color.  Long body with a small little face.

My Grandpa adopted her, and she was traumatized by her first owner who was abusive.  For the first few years her fear was apparent at times, freezing and shaking, but as time progressed she eased and relaxed.

Ginger was a good dog, perfect for my Grandfather, but there was a problem.  She was the kind of dog that was fantastic with elderly people, but not at all good with kids.  My nieces and nephew were quite young, and when there were adults around Ginger minded herself.  When there were no adults around she ran and barked furiously at the kids, and as the kids ran into the house their faces were full of terror.  Thanks to Ginger the kids became scared of all dogs.

I don't blame Ginger for this, as all dogs are different, and we don't know her previous experiences.  Honestly I was upset with her at times as I'm super protective of the kiddos.  It did pose a problem, though, for when my Grandpa would pass.  We couldn't keep her, but we didn't know who to give her to.  The pound was out of the question, as were other places.  But we were afraid to take her to an adoption place, for worry she'd get adopted by a family with kids.  Ginger needed an elderly couple, but how could we go about finding a good fit for her? 

A couple days after my Grandpa passed, my Dad was playing and watching her in the backyard.  Then, while my Dad was looking in the other direction, Ginger ran away and squeezed through a gap in the fence.  She escaped and my Dad couldn't catch her.  She never tried escaping before, so it was odd.

We didn't know what happened to her.  Feared the worse.  But after about two weeks we got a call.  Ginger ran several blocks, and as she was crossing a major road with a lot of traffic, an elderly man rescued her.  For over a week he couldn't get close to Ginger to see her tag, but she finally let him read the tag for our phone number.

We did get Ginger back for a few days, but called the man back, asking if he would like to take Ginger.  He lived with his sister, both single, and they already had two other dogs.  It seemed like a long shot, but perfect.  He gladly agreed, and his sister claimed Ginger as her own, as the other dogs were her brothers.  Ginger found the perfect family with two dogs she got along well with.  Playmates, which she hadn't had, but needed.

God works in mysterious ways.  Prayers are answered, sometimes quietly, so quietly we may miss them, but sometimes prayers are answered so loudly they refused to be missed.  Signatures from the Lord bright and bold.

I'd like to think it was my Grandpa guiding and protecting Ginger to this family, as he was super worried about her fate.   

Every now and then I see Ginger out on a walk, and she's happy.  Living a full life as a loyal companion.

Hope you're having a great week!!

Sarah 

Be More Dog

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Why be a cat when you can Be More Dog?

They have more fun, do they not?  More excitement.  More joy.  More energy.

Cat's, on the other hand, can be listless and picky.  Prone to revenge and malice.  Selective and Calculating.  Selfish.

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That's the opinion of this commercial from O2, encouraging us to be dog-like in optimism and purpose.  I saw it at a leadership meeting a couple weeks back, and the whole 600+room had a good laugh over it.

It's true, really, we could all be a little more dog.

Though I like dogs, I will always prefer cats.  They're independent and don't need to be cuddled.  They come when they want to, then leave for solace.  And I like they're attitude.