| T O P I C R E V I E W |
| Cindy Lou |
Posted - Feb 07 2011 : 2:19:53 PM
I don't know who wrote this and I'd really like tp give him or her credit but I thought this would be appreciated here.
Susan
Better grab your Kleenex before you read this!
"Watch out! You nearly broad sided that car!" My father yelled at me. "Can't you do anything right?"
Those words hurt worse than blows. I turned my head toward the elderly man in the seat beside me, daring me to challenge him. A lump rose in my throat as I averted my eyes. I wasn't prepared for another battle.
"I saw the car, Dad . Please don't yell at me when I'm driving.."
My voice was measured and steady, sounding far calmer than I really felt.
Dad glared at me, then turned away and settled back. At home I left Dad in front of the television and went outside to collect my thoughts.... dark, heavy clouds hung in the air with a promise of rain. The rumble of distant thunder seemed to echo my inner turmoil. What could I do about him?
Dad had been a lumberjack in Washington and Oregon . He had enjoyed being outdoors and had reveled in pitting his strength against the forces of nature. He had entered grueling lumberjack competitions, and had placed often. The shelves in his house were filled with trophies that attested to his prowess.
The years marched on relentlessly. The first time he couldn't lift a heavy log, he joked about it; but later that same day I saw him outside alone, straining to lift it. He became irritable whenever anyone teased him about his advancing age, or when he couldn't do something he had done as a younger man.
Four days after his sixty-seventh birthday, he had a heart attack. An ambulance sped him to the hospital while a paramedic administered CPR to keep blood and oxygen flowing.
At the hospital, Dad was rushed into an operating room. He was lucky; he survived. But something inside Dad died. His zest for life was gone. He obstinately refused to follow doctor's orders. Suggestions and offers of help were turned aside with sarcasm and insults. The number of visitors thinned, then finally stopped altogether. Dad was left alone..
My husband, Dick, and I asked Dad to come live with us on our small farm. We hoped the fresh air and rustic atmosphere would help him adjust.
Within a week after he moved in, I regretted the invitation. It seemed nothing was satisfactory. He criticized everything I did. I became frustrated and moody. Soon I was taking my pent-up anger out on Dick. We began to bicker and argue.
Alarmed, Dick sought out our pastor and explained the situation. The clergyman set up weekly counseling appointments for us. At the close of each session he prayed, asking God to soothe Dad's troubled mind.
But the months wore on and God was silent. Something had to be done and it was up to me to do it..
The next day I sat down with the phone book and methodically called each of the mental health clinics listed in the Yellow Pages. I explained my problem to each of the sympathetic voices that answered in vain.
Just when I was giving up hope, one of the voices suddenly exclaimed, "I just read something that might help you! Let me go get the article.."
I listened as she read. The article described a remarkable study done at a nursing home. All of the patients were under treatment for chronic depression. Yet their attitudes had improved dramatically when they were given responsibility for a dog.
I drove to the animal shelter that afternoon.. After I filled out a questionnaire, a uniformed officer led me to the kennels. The odor of disinfectant stung my nostrils as I moved down the row of pens. Each contained five to seven dogs. Long-haired dogs, curly-haired dogs, black dogs, spotted dogs all jumped up, trying to reach me.
I studied each one but rejected one after the other for various reasons too big, too small, too much hair. As I neared the last pen a dog in the shadows of the far corner struggled to his feet, walked to the front of the run and sat down. It was a pointer, one of the dog world's aristocrats. But this was a caricature of the breed.
Years had etched his face and muzzle with shades of gray. His hip bones jutted out in lopsided triangles. But it was his eyes that caught and held my attention. Calm and clear, they beheld me unwaveringly.
I pointed to the dog. "Can you tell me about him?" The officer looked, then shook his head in puzzlement. "He's a funny one. Appeared out of nowhere and sat in front of the gate. We brought him in, figuring someone would be right down to claim him. That was two weeks ago and we've heard nothing. His time is up tomorrow." He gestured helplessly.
As the words sank in I turned to the man in horror.. "You mean you're going to kill him?"
"Ma'am," he said gently, "that's our policy. We don't have room for every unclaimed dog."
I looked at the pointer again. The calm brown eyes awaited my decision. "I'll take him," I said. I drove home with the dog on the front seat beside me.. When I reached the house I honked the horn twice. I was helping my prize out of the car when Dad shuffled onto the front porch... "Ta-da! Look what I got for you, Dad !" I said excitedly.
Dad looked, then wrinkled his face in disgust. "If I had wanted a dog I would have gotten one. And I would have picked out a better specimen than that bag of bones. Keep it! I don't want it" Dad waved his arm scornfully and turned back toward the house.
Anger rose inside me. It squeezed together my throat muscles and pounded into my temples. "You'd better get used to him, Dad . He's staying!"
Dad ignored me.. "Did you hear me, Dad ?" I screamed. At those words Dad whirled angrily, his hands clenched at his sides, his eyes narrowed and blazing with hate. We stood glaring at each other like duelists, when suddenly the pointer pulled free from my grasp. He wobbled toward my dad and sat down in front of him. Then slowly, carefully, he raised his paw..
Dad's lower jaw trembled as he stared at the uplifted paw Confusion replaced the anger in his eyes. The pointer waited patiently. Then Dad was on his knees hugging the animal.
It was the beginning of a warm and intimate friendship. Dad named the pointer Cheyenne . Together he and Cheyenne explored the community. They spent long hours walking down dusty lanes. They spent reflective moments on the banks of streams, angling for tasty trout. They even started to attend Sunday services together, Dad sitting in a pew and Cheyenne lying quietly at his feet.
Dad and Cheyenne were inseparable throughout the next three years.. Dad's bitterness faded, and he and Cheyenne made many friends. Then late one night I was startled to feel Cheyenne 's cold nose burrowing through our bed covers. He had never before come into our bedroom at night.. I woke Dick, put on my robe and ran into my father's room. Dad lay in his bed, his face serene. But his spirit had left quietly sometime during the night.
Two days later my shock and grief deepened when I discovered Cheyenne lying dead beside Dad's bed. I wrapped his still form in the rag rug he had slept on. As Dick and I buried him near a favorite fishing hole, I silently thanked the dog for the help he had given me in restoring Dad's peace of mind.
The morning of Dad's funeral dawned overcast and dreary. This day looks like the way I feel, I thought, as I walked down the aisle to the pews reserved for family. I was surprised to see the many friends Dad and Cheyenne had made filling the church. The pastor began his eulogy. It was a tribute to both Dad and the dog who had changed his life.
And then the pastor turned to Hebrews 13:2. "Do not neglect to show hospitality to strangers, for by this some have entertained angels without knowing it."
"I've often thanked God for sending that angel," he said.
For me, the past dropped into place, completing a puzzle that I had not seen before: the sympathetic voice that had just read the right article... Cheyenne's unexpected appearance at the animal shelter. . ..his calm acceptance and complete devotion to my father. . and the proximity of their deaths. And suddenly I understood. I knew that God had answered my prayers after all.
Life is too short for drama or petty things, so laugh hard, love truly and forgive quickly. Live While You Are Alive. Forgive now those who made you cry. You might not get a second time.
And if you don't send this to at least 4 people ---nobody cares.. But do share this with someone. Lost time can never be found.
"Tell me, what is it you plan to do with your one wild and precious life?"
Mary Oliver |
| 13 L A T E S T R E P L I E S (Newest First) |
| Cindy Lou |
Posted - Feb 17 2011 : 10:11:31 AM
I had an uncle with MS. His Sally, an airedale, was the love of his later life. When he passed away he had arranged for a dear friend to find a nursing home for her to spend the rest of her days as a companion to anyone there who would enjoy her company. She was used to wheelchairs and to someone who wasn't physically strong.
Susan
"Tell me, what is it you plan to do with your one wild and precious life?"
Mary Oliver |
| texdane |
Posted - Feb 14 2011 : 12:46:48 PM
Okay...mascara is running! Thanks for sharing, it was beautiful.
Nicole
Farmgirl Sister #1155
KNITTER, JAM-MAKER AND MOM EXTRAORDINAIRE
http://sfgblog.maryjanesfarm.org/ |
| Alee |
Posted - Feb 13 2011 : 9:59:36 PM
That is a beautiful story. Animals can bring into our lives so many things that we need to see us through. Thank you so much for sharing.
Alee
Farmgirl Sister #8
www.farmgirlalee.blogspot.com
www.allergyjourneys.blogspot.com
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| maggie14 |
Posted - Feb 13 2011 : 8:39:57 PM
Oh, what a beautiful story Susan! It made cry it was so beautiful. :)
Thank you!
Hugs,
Hannah
Farmgirl sister #1219
Lifes not about the breaths you take, but the moments that take your breath away.
Just a small town country girl, farmgirl,loggergirl, trying to live her dreams. :)
P.s. I've been playing around with the spelling of my name ( weird I know) and I've decided that I will stick with Hannah for good. Sorry I got you all confused. Hugs!! |
| Lin |
Posted - Feb 13 2011 : 7:02:14 PM
What a wonderful, heart-wrenching story, Susan. Thank you for sharing! I hope everyone takes the time to read it because the message is so strong, especially the last paragraph. Hugs, Lin
"Our beautiful earth is worth saving"!! |
| HealingTouch |
Posted - Feb 13 2011 : 6:08:37 PM
Wonderful stories. Animals have such a relaxing effect on the elderly. As a nurse of the elderly for many years I have seen the therapy dogs awaken the spirit of the alzheimer's patients and bring a smile to their faces. No matter how disassociated they are...the minute they see or feel the dogs, they justsmile, cry, laugh and hug them. Precious beyond belief. My own dog is my soulmate. We laugh because she is so in tune with everything I do. Can't even entertain the thought of not having her. Every nite when she lays on her pillow between my husband and I, I say, "Thank You Jesus for my ANGEL and then say,Are you Mommies ANGEL?" She sighs really loud and then we can go to sleep.Some people wouldn't have a dog in their bed. I can't sleep without her there! She's cleaner than some people I know!LOL!
Thanks for sharing!
Be Blessed,
Darlene
Sister 1922
God first, everything else after!
When Satan's knocking at your door, just say "Jesus will you get that for me?"
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| FebruaryViolet |
Posted - Feb 08 2011 : 12:19:23 PM
Ok...I'm now a mess at work. Thanks so much for sharing this, truly. Going to cut and paste it and send it to my gal co-workers, here at the office.
As someone who worked at an animal shelter, handling the adoptions, and a proud pet guardian, I know all too well that there are angels in furry bodies.
Musings from our family in the Bluegrass http://sweetvioletmae.blogspot.com/ |
| Blessed in Colorado |
Posted - Feb 08 2011 : 12:09:23 PM
Thank you Susan for sharing that, I too am crying like a baby it touched me so. Renee thank you too for sharing your story as well. I too believe that angels walk among us, we may not always see them but they are there.
Farm Girl Hugs and Blessings,
Debbie
#1582
If you are lucky enough to live in the mountains you are lucky enough. |
| Cindy Lou |
Posted - Feb 08 2011 : 11:54:28 AM
Renee,
I love your story. It is so easy to be cauaght in our own worries and sorrows but in that moment you gave a tremendous gift to the man in the hospital, and to your own heart.
Susan
"Tell me, what is it you plan to do with your one wild and precious life?"
Mary Oliver |
| rschaaf |
Posted - Feb 07 2011 : 10:24:34 PM
How touching. I completely beleive that angels are sent to see if we are doing our job here. I have to share an experience that happened to me once.
My dad was in the hospital recovering from a very extensive surgery. He was in a medically induced coma for several weeks and my mom and brother and I would take turns sitting with him every day. One day I was leaving the hospital and an older gentelman was in the elevator with me. He started talking to me and then he told me that he would be taking his mother home to pass away. I said I was sorry. It's hard to ever know the reight thing to say at a moment like that. The only thing I could think of was if he knew the Lord. "Yes, very well," he said.
"My husband and I will pray for you at supper tonight," I replied.
At this point we were off the elevator and were ready to go our seperate ways. We said afew more things and then we parted. I tried to look for him as I walked to my car, but I didn't see him anywhere.
That night I prayed for that gentelman and his family. I truly feel like God was seeing if I would show hospitality and compassion to that stranger. I'll always remember that day.
"There is beauty, there is grace, in my peaceful country place!"
See what I'm up to at: http://www.lifeonctfarm.blogspot.com |
| bboopster |
Posted - Feb 07 2011 : 5:26:36 PM
Awesome story God's blessing to you! 
http://www.bboopster.blogspot.com
Nana to 4 with 1 on the way.
3 Blue Star Mother and Proud of it!
Pray for our troops to come home safe and soon.
Enjoying the road to the simple life :>) |
| Fiddlehead Farm |
Posted - Feb 07 2011 : 4:02:01 PM
I am wiping the tears away, thank you.
http://studiodiphotosite.shutterfly.com/
farmgirl sister #922
Happy to be a "Raggedy Ann" in a Barbie World!
I get up every morning determined to both change the world and have one hell of a good time. Sometimes this makes planning my day difficult.
- E. B. White |
| Penny Dyke |
Posted - Feb 07 2011 : 2:30:00 PM
You got me crying what a wonderful story susan1 |
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