One Year Later

One year ago this evening while getting out of the car at my brother's house, I saw a scraggly, smelly, skinny, patchy-haired 4 legged creature with its nose down the grate near the curb I had pulled up to. Getting out of the car, I motioned toward the animal and said, "Who's that?" "Oh," he replied, "it's been hanging around here the last couple of days. I dunno where it came from." I paused to look at the dog and was a little repulsed by the sight. "Man", I thought. "That is one ugly mutt." I turned to walk away, but looked back. The dog had laid down by the grate in the yard and I walked toward it, curious. As I approached, she looked at me with sad dark eyes, the skin hanging loosely from her muzzle and gave a small twitch of her tail. She looked like she had just had pups, however her ribs were showing and obviously she was not in good nutritional health.

"She's awful. Let's put her in your backyard and I'll take her to the Humane Society tomorrow." I put a rope around her neck and tugged, and she followed me hesitantly, a little unsure if she could trust me. While we were waiting for dinner to be ready, I hopped in the car, and my husband looked at me incredulously. I asked him if he wanted to come along to get some dog food and he emphatically said, are you NUTS????

When I got back the dog gulped both cans of food down and drank a bowlful of water, then stood at the back patio door, her scrawny face peering through the glass. We ignored her while we ate, and I promised to return the next morning to take her away.

The next day my daughter and I returned. As we put her in the car we discussed what all could be wrong with her, and how much money it would take to fix her. I didn't even know what vet I could take her to on a Saturday. She offered her vet services, and wouldn't you know it, they were open. Wouldn't you know it, they could see her and evaluate her. We took her in, armed with a generous brother's financial aid and some money of my own.

I decided on the way over there that if she had heartworms, I was going to put her down. If she had mange, I wouldn't treat her. She had neither of those maladies, but a lot of other issues. Skin infection, mites, fleas, crusted over skin sores, seriously underweight, ear infection in both ears, a couple of small skin growths, broken and cracked teeth-the list grew. The vet saw signs of abuse and severe maltreatment.

I brought her home and I named her Lydia. I spent money on her I shouldn't have, but one year later, she is beautiful to me. She's gained 20 pounds. She's ornery. She's smart and she's just what I needed. She's learned to trust me, and does so implicitly. She's a member of my family, and she gets on the couch when I'm not home, but that's okay with me. I know that someday I'll face the heartbreak of laying her to rest-but you just do that when you take the risk to love and care for someone other than yourself.

In a very ordinary way, I rescued someone who needed me. How very much more does God do the same for us! How very much more does He love us, care for us, want us to trust Him implicitly, and yes, He longs for a relationship with us even when we're unlovable, stinky, hairless, and have all kinds of problems requiring all kinds of help. We're in the gutter, trying to survive on our own, and here He comes - He sees you and me as his children, with potential we don't even know we've got. Lessons from Lydia-I learn 'em every day. And I'm grateful for her and for Jay - I'm not sure why he thought I needed her, but as usual, he was right. Thanks brother, for your help a year ago-what did you see in that mangy scraggly animal that you thought I might need? One of these days you'll be learning your own lessons from someone God brings into your life-and I'll have the privilege of watching you do that.