Friday, September 6, 2019
Little Dog Found by Foley Monster
All angels love their families, and all angels want to serve their families. But sometimes our families make us say "God, these people!"
Just days after I had to guide a group of kitties to their new home like some low rent, Moses I was called back to my parents' house for another crisis. They had a lost dog in their shed.
I popped in to check on the fellow. His name was Dexter. I asked him how he ended up in a strangers' shed.
"I came to this neighborhood with my parents," he said. "They were at my Nana's house. They brought me in a room so I could sleep. But then someone left the bedroom door open, and I slipped out, and then I caught a whiff of something on the air, I found the screen door unlatched, and I pushed through it and began to run.'
"Do you know which house it was?" I asked.
"Not really. As I said, I'm not from around here, and all these houses look the same."
I asked him if he could pick up a scent on the breeze. "There are so many new scents here I can't make sense of them."
I told him not to worry if you were going to be lost its best being in a shed belonging to crazy folks who would care for him like he was their own. I told him I would go find his parents.
Of course, I had no idea how I was going to find them. But I've always had a high opinion of my abilities. I flew back to the Bridge and found lots of prayers for a lost dog in my parents' neighborhood. I flew back to where they originated, but a worried lady only occupied the house. I deduced the parents were already searching for their baby.
I went back to the Bridge and found out that people were praying and moving at my parents' site. Praying and walking is what we call a "Sorkin." They are difficult to pinpoint. I went back to fly around the neighborhood, hoping to find the parents who were hoping to find their dog. Both tasks were like trying to find you a weasel in the next in a haystack.
The people who own the dog had been visiting the husband's parents. There was a new baby in the family, and the baby was being passed around and played with. The parents had such a good time they completely forgot they brought their black dog with them. When they got in the car to leave, they saw the blanket and remembered to go back and get the dog. But when they searched the house, they couldn't find him.
They began to, as Daddy had, walk around the neighborhood looking for their dog. It was even later now, after ten, which translates to 3 a.m. in normal people's time. They knocked on doors, and no one answered. Their search grew more frantic by the moment.
Then they stumbled upon the cookout. They asked everyone if they saw their dog. The man who took the picture happily showed them the photo of the dog who had been there a few hours before. "The dog is with Mr. Gay," the man who knew Daddy said. They asked where Mr. Gay lived, and they answered, "we don't know, over there somewhere. Really, they don't see the house with the pretty flowers and nappy dogs? I blame Bacchus.
Now that they knew my parents' name, the task was easier. I found them ten houses away from my parents and kept guiding them towards my parents' domicile. At 10:30, they knocked on the door.
My parents were still up. They had been worried about what they would do in the morning. Daddy had to work, but the lost dog needed to be walked fed and given water. Then there was a question about finding his parents. And how would the dog react to waking up when the sun came up? Would he be crying in the shed? They were losing hope they would find the parents that night. Then there was a knock on the door.
Daddy saw a man, a woman, and a child in a stroller at his door asking about their dog. Daddy put on his shoes and went outside to meet them. He told the grateful parents that the dog was in the shed. He gave them a leash to wrap around the dog, so he didn't wander off again. Then Daddy opened the shed sure, and Dexter walked out.
There hasn't been such a commotion and so much crying in my parents' yard since the hydrangea died, but these were happy tears. The dad apologized a thousand times to the dog. He said he was so glad he did not lose him like this after all they've been through. He and his wife thanked Daddy repeatedly. Then they walked the Dexter back to their car.
I'm glad I was able in some small way to help reunite the dog and his family. There's nothing scarier for a dog parent than knowing their dog is out there somewhere cold, alone, possibly wet and always in danger. My parents took in the stray because they fear that someday one of their dogs will slip away and be lost. They treated the dog like a want one of their lost dogs to be treated.
Then I went back to the Bridge for a long sleep. I don't know what the next crisis will be, but I will be there for my parents. It is my duty to help lost people and pups. It is a noble quest.
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