Affirmation: I believe in answered prayer.
I was searching for a new dog. We'd had dogs most of our lives and at the time we only had Misty, our cat that had adopted us a few years earlier. She was only allowed in the garage because the children were allergic to cats. That lasted about month and now she ruled the entire house whether people were sneezing or not.
This time I was determined to get a dog that was appropriate for our family. We hadn't always been successful with our adoptions. Ralph was a prime example. He was a hyper Dalmatian who consumed a picnic table, did several thousand dollar's worth of damage to one of our cars when he wanted to get in and play with the children and sprayed all the furniture to insure that his territory was marked. After a year or so we were able to find a farmer that wanted to care for him. It had been a very trying experience. He wasn't the only dog we had issues with and I was very hesitant to take on another pet with which I would fail. I am not the best "dog person." I might as well admit it. I am not a Caesar Milano, the dog whisperer. I'm not sure I have a single gene that enables me to respond appropriately to a dog's deepest desires. I'm a good caregiver, please understand. I feed, shelter, offer warm cozy beds and long walks and good medial care. I even undergo lots of training sessions but I can't seem to hear their inner most concerns. It didn't matter with Buddy. Perhaps one of the reasons we did better with him was because he came to us at eleven months of age and was already somewhat trained or maybe it was because I had asked God whether or not to adopt him and God had sent a very clear message.
My husband, Sandy, loves to tell the story about when I was gone for six weeks doing my yoga training at Kripalu. Buddy waited outside the back door, in the garage, every day until I finally returned, He had slept with Sandy every night in our bed until the night I came home when he wouldn't come up even when called. He was just fine going back to his own bed next to ours. I was home and he was good again. Amazing!
Sandy shared his tiny family home with a dog named Missy. She was a Doberman they found in their back yard. She was very protective of that family! When he went to see his father's office, he was struck by the fact that the only picture Joe had on his desk was of the dog. He asked where the other family photos were and his father told him, "Missy is the only one that runs to the door to greet me when I come home." There it is again, unconditional love, total devotion; all the qualities we wished we and our loved one's emulated.
My adult daughter, Melissa and my grand-daughter, Isabelle, volunteer at the Wake County SPCA. They are "dog people." They always have at least two dogs in their home. Recently, they brought home Gibson, a six weeks old mixed breed. What joy! Gibson discovered a pin cushion on the top of the dining room table. He didn't eat it, but he did eat the thirteen pins and one needle. Their rescue dog needed several thousand dollars of surgery. They were saving for a new roof but their priorities were with this new guy who has brought smiles and giggles and once again, the unconditional love of a pet.