Sam

A few days ago, I was poking around on Facebook and saw this picture of my dog, Sam.  It made me both smile and cry, because the picture was not on my account but my best friend’s. 

A year ago, when I found out that my family would be moving around the world to Okinawa, Japan, my heart sank.  I knew there was a good chance this wonderful dog wouldn’t be able to go.  Sam is probably the best dog I have ever had.  Since we got him at age 9 months about 5 years ago, he has always been obedient, house trained, never chewed on anything or was destructive, and was always very happy-go lucky.  Unfortunately, he is also 100 lbs. of hyper-active, strong, fur-shedding Labrador, which makes having him, a Jack Russell, and a small child very difficult, esp. when everyone gets cooped up inside during the winter.

Despite all the trouble, I convinced Jon to let the dogs go with us to Japan.  The thought of having to leave them behind for three years simply broke my heart.  I rarely ask for anything or fight for anything, but I do when it comes to my family and my dogs.  For some people, dogs are just dogs; they like them, but that’s it.  For some people like me, my dogs are part of my family.

Let me explain through example.  A little over two years ago, while Jon was deployed, my Jack Russell died.  Through a series of events, I adopted another two year Jack Russell while in Texas, and brought her back to Wyoming.  This dog, Heidi Belle, had been in a high-kill shelter when she was rescued by a pet adoption agency, so I’m not sure what her background was.  All I know is that she is very loving --- and also would run away at any chance she got.  Anytime the door was cracked, she was gone.  For a long time she couldn’t even be inside without being on a leash.  Heidi did this for two years.

For all the trouble, I couldn’t give her away, even when others told me they would have given up.  If I didn’t have the persistence to teach her she belongs to our family, who could?  Since my son was born 10 months ago, Heidi has finally realized that we are her family, even if we are traveling.  She still has to be on a leash when outside, but she no longer tries to “escape” or run away.

It was this same love and persistence that made me want to take Sam with us to Japan.  Heidi is small and not much trouble (anymore!), but they are both part of my family.  I know there were people who would love to have Sam, but there was no one that I liked or could really trust to take care of him like I would.  And even though, deep within, I knew it was in no one’s best interest for him to go to Japan, I wasn’t budging.  And I certainly wasn’t going to ask God about it.  What would He care about my dog anyway?

About two months before we were set to leave, Jon approached me again about leaving Sam with someone for three years.  I couldn’t imagine leaving him, especially since I couldn’t think of anyone to keep him.  Then Jon mentioned my best friend Brandi, who I’ve known since we were three.  She had just gotten married, and to a duck hunter no less!  All the sudden, she sends me a text out of the blue, “How are you doing?”  Well that finally chipped away at my reserves.  If they would keep Sam, I knew God had a hand in it.

Sam has been with them for a few weeks now.  Not being in my own home, I haven’t realized the full extent of his missing presence following me around the house.  But they love him and are able to take better care of him than I am right now.  And he is having a blast running around, playing fetch, and getting ready for duck season.  

I wrote all this to point out how much I forget that God truly cares about the smallest things in our lives.  This issue that was so large in my everyday life, I had deemed insignificant in His eyes.  And even though I wouldn’t even bring the matter before Him, He saw my fears and concerns and my needs, and took care of it all in such a way that I have perfect peace about it.  Now that makes me smile and cry.