“Be kind to strangers, some may be disguised as angels.” ~ Hebrews 13:2
As Amy neared the last of the shelter’s two dozen pens, a
dog in the shadows struggled to his feet, ambled to the front and sat down. Years
had etched his face with shades of gray. Geriatric hips jutted out in unnatural
angles. But his adoring eyes caught and held her attention.
“That’s Wiley,” the
kennel clerk said. “He’s a sad case! After several rounds of ‘rehoming,’
we’re probably his last home. We took him in two weeks ago, but his time is up
tomorrow. We simply don’t have room for every unwanted dog.”
Amy returned home with
Wiley nuzzled beside her on the front seat.
The old hound was a
gift for her much older father who, at 83, had come to live with them on a
small Iowa farm. While Jack had survived the heart attack, his passion for life
did not. He rejected any offers of help. Friends disappeared. Jack imprisoned
himself in a cocoon of his own making.
Amy helped the mutt
from the car when Jack shuffled onto the front porch. “Look what I got for you,
Dad!” she said unapologetically.
Jack shook his head
and wrinkled his face. “If I’d wanted a dog, I’d have picked one better than
that old sack of bones.”
Amy swallowed her
anger before speaking. “You’d better get used to him, Dad. He’s staying!”
They stood glaring at
each other, while Wiley wobbled toward Jack and sat down in front of him. Then
slowly, carefully, he raised his paw. Jack stared at the lifted paw as
confusion replaced his cynicism. Wiley waited patiently… until Jack tenderly petted
the mangy mongrel.
That marked the beginning of a warm, intimate friendship.
One morning after an unanswered breakfast call, Amy entered
Jack’s bedroom. He lay peacefully in his bed; his spirit having left quietly
during the night.
Wiley passed away two
days later. As they buried him near a favorite fishing pond, Amy silently
thanked the precious pooch for his help restoring her Dad’s peace of mind.
Jack’s funeral brought
sweet sorrow, blossoming like the freshness of spring meadows. Amy was
gratified to see the many friends Jack and Wiley had made filling the church.
The pastor began his tribute to both Dad and the dog that had changed his life,
turning to Hebrews 13:2 (above).
Suddenly, it all made
sense: Wiley’s unexpected appearance at the animal shelter, his calm acceptance
and complete devotion to Jack, and the proximity of their peaceful deaths. God
answered her prayers with a furry face, wagging tail, and generous heart.
Father of all living things, thank You for the
kind, generous animals that provide daily distractions from our trials and
troubles. Watch over these sweet souls for they give us an unparalleled level
of comfort and compassion. Amen
