We found Him in one of our stories recently. Not that we were surprised that He was there, but we were a little shocked at how He showed up. I'm not sure why we are constantly taken aback by where and how we find Him, by now you think we'd have learned, but I suppose that is the fleshly struggle of belief while we walk through the already not yet of this earthly life. Still, it's such a grace to find Him, and we continue to strive to make our God sightings through the daily, the usual, the mundane, as well as in the awesome, extraordinary, and fantastic.
Our story is somewhat familiar, as I've shared parts of it here already. I had no idea how many chapters, twists, and turns this story would have from start to finish when we first began our adventure. But alas, if I had known I still probably wouldn't have been well enough prepared or smart enough to declare the outcome even if I had known. Which is why it's a darn good thing that God rules the world and not me.
The story begins with Rinzler. As you recall, we had adopted him and thought that adding a puppy to our family would be a great growth opportunity for us as we all would participate in raising up this little furball and loving him thorough the days of our lives. Well, we weren't wrong, but the story of Rizler certainly did not go as planned for us (not even close) but boy did we grow through our time with him. His adoption story was filled with much love and sacrifice but in the end, not even the best of our love could save him. Sadly that is true of humans, and thankfully that is not true of God. We did the best we could with Rinzler until we could no longer and the best act of love was to love him enough to let him go. And so it was.
Not long after Rinzler left, we decided that we still wanted to have a furry friend and after some searching, we found a black and tan pup that seemed to be a good match for us. We made arrangements to reserve him and started counting down the days until we could pick him up. Just a couple of weeks before we were set to get him, we got a call informing us that the puppy had died of a vaccine reaction.
We were shocked and saddened. However, we learned that we had options. There was one more pup in that litter and we could stay on our intended timeline if we wanted to pick him up instead. We re-evaluated photos and decided that the little red pup was not as appealing as the sweet masked black and tan that we had chosen.
However, there was another litter of puppies that would be ready to go home if only we could wait eight more weeks. We were anxious, but not in a rush so we studied pictures, chose another pup, and geared up for what would feel like a terribly long wait.
One week later, we received a call informing us that a little girl had accidentally been placed in the line up and, of course, we had inadvertently chosen her. Now that wasn't terrible, we had actually considered just sticking with our choice, but after more review we decided that we should really stay the course and choose again--this time a boy like we had intended. The new choice was submitted and new pictures were sent so that we could enjoy them during our wait to bring the baby boy home. We had almost two months to wait, dream, and anticipate.
We had many discussions of what life would be like with our new little guy and the time seemed to drag on. Near the end of our wait, we all became a bit anxious. We were ready to have him home. I started to get nervous. What if something happened to this one too? We were already three strikes in. I told God that if something happened to this pup, I was out. No dog for us. But instead of dwelling in anxiety, I remained hopeful and prayed for the best.
Finally the day arrived for our road trip. Initially we had discussed making an overnight road trip out of the puppy pick up. We envisioned the family hitting the road, taking in some fun sights, and grabbing up puppy on the way back home--a two in one bunch of fun. However, with school, work, John's remaining limitations with his ankle, and Covid restrictions, we decided that just the two older boys and I would make the trip down and back again in one day. On the designated day, the boys and I rose early to set out on the road that would bring us home by late afternoon.
Three hours and fifty minutes into a four hour drive, we got the call that informed us that the little guy we were about to pick up had died earlier that morning. Ten minutes out and everything changed. The boys and I stood in the parking lot of the gas station in shock. Dead?! With only ten minutes left to go, what should we do? Go home? Press on? We had been told other puppies were available. The boys voted for continuing our journey to see what we could see. We hadn't gone that far for nothing. I agreed. We were there for a reason. After all, I had already told God I'd be out if anything happened to this pup, but with only ten more minutes to travel, how could we not press on in light of a glimmer of possibility? Surely God allowed me to leave home and get so far in for a reason. So we got in the car and finished our road trip.
The kennel turned out to be only five minutes down the road and we were still chatting about what this all meant and what we were supposed to do with our circumstances. We turned into the drive of our location and got out. We had been told that the man would be out at the barn so we intended to find him there. What we saw shocked us. We were not prepared for the scene before us, nor do I think we could have been. Dogs--everywhere. Tied up, caged up, penned up, loose. Barking, howling, whining, silent. Run down buildings, trash, overgrown plants, dirt, grime, and stink everywhere. It was unbelievable. How could this be the place? It had come recommended. This man had championship dogs--four National Champs even. We walked around silently taking in what we could, our senses on overload. There was no one there. Just the dogs. I decided to call the man. He answered right away. I told him we were ready to pick up our dog but we were confused as to where to find him. He gave me an address which did not match the place we were in and told us he'd meet us there. I relayed the information to the boys and we numbly got back into the car to find the new place.
The other location was just another couple of minutes down the road. Arriving there was no more reassuring. It was a business front--apparently he had several irons in the fire. This was a mobile home sales kind of lot. We located the red truck the man had described and went into the office--a rather old and rundown mobile home cluttered with years of dirt, bugs, and paperwork. The boys and I exchanged glances. This was becoming a mission.
I called the man again to confirm we were in the right place--we were. He said he'd be there shortly with pups. We went back outside to wait in the lot with the fresh air. We spoke little. No one knew what to say. I think shock had settled in. Then he arrived.
He pulled up with one pup. It was a boy from the first litter we had looked at. He was the same boy we passed up in order to wait on a spotted pup from the next litter. It was curious to us that the little red pup was still there. He was sixteen weeks old. He'd gained more colorful character--he was no longer all red and he had a cute little black widow's peak.
We asked the man questions about the pup we had reserved and what other pups were available. He was not great at answering our questions. As a matter of fact, he cherry picked what he chose to answer and what he ignored all together. Finally he said he also had another pup that he could show us if we wanted to wait. We agreed to stay put--we were at least curious, though we had more questions now than when we had arrived. I got the feeling that he did not realize that we had seen the kennel and we figured out by watching where he drove his truck that the property of the mobile site backed up to the property the dogs were on. A few minutes later, he arrived with the last pup from the spotted litter. The boy we had reserved apparently died of a stomach obstruction and after all that we had seen it was a completely plausible story. Apparently the little girl, the pup we had first chosen while intending to choose a male, was the only one left.
The man told us to spend some time and choose which pup we wanted to take home. I thanked him and told him I needed to talk to John first. I stepped aside to make a call while the boys visited with the man and the dogs.
I tried to update John and fill him in on all of the details. I was having trouble stringing my thoughts together into sentences--I was overwhelmed by the situation. What was supposed to be a road trip to pick up a bundle of bouncy puppy joy felt like it was turning into a rescue mission. Should we take the boy? We intended to pick up a boy. Did we take the girl? We intended to have a spotted leopard (the breed is called the American Leopard Hound). Neither of the dogs was what we had planned to pick up. And yet we couldn't imagine leaving either of them behind. Were we pushing our will if we took any puppy home? John recommended that we take a moment to pray and see which way we should go. I hung up with John and pulled Nikolas aside. It was already decided that Nikolas and I were the primary puppy caretakers so we had to make the call.
This is where the threads seemed to pull together. Shortly before the road trip, the boys and I had talked about the puppy and what the future may hold for us. Many times during our wait we had talked about getting two puppies. We had decided that though we had reserved one, IF there was a second available we would consider taking a second home. The original idea was to get a breeding pair. The passing of time had us second guessing the idea and we thought maybe just having brothers would be great. Then after more time we thought we'd be best off with just one pup at a time. Overall, the reservation for one had been made and we decided to stick with our plan, but we prayed that if two dogs were for us that God would make the open door wide and visible and if not that He shut the door loudly and tight. And here we were.
Nikolas said that his whispered prayer upon the reveal of our situation gave him the answer. He said that in complaining to God about our circumstance, God's response was that not all of His blessings looked the way we thought they should or would. And with tears we agreed. So many times the Lord has blessed us in unanticipated ways. Why not this not? We agreed that we would take both dogs home.
We went back to tell the man that we'd be taking them both home. He seemed pleased. He said he was going to give them a quick bath before we left if we could kindly wait. He put them in the truck and drove off. Mind you, a bath seemed like the most sensible and kind thing he could do in this situation. You see, the dogs stunk to high heaven, they were so dirty that a single pet left our hands visibly darkened, and they were surrounded by bugs--both flying around them and crawling on them. These were not pretty little puppies. It seemed like forever before he returned with wet dogs. I swear he simply wet them down and toweled them off as they were obviously not any cleaner. Still, we scooped those babies up and politely went on our way.
We had a long drive back which would be quite unpleasant with stinky dogs and we were anxious to put distance between us and the kennel.
The ride home was strange. The pups sat still and quiet the whole way. We tried to get them a proper bath before home but could not find a place to help us. We tried to give John enough information to prep the other kids with. How to put what we saw in words still fully eludes me. I do believe we were a bit traumatized by the whole experience. We talked a lot about what may come of pups that may have also been traumatized. We prayed that we would not have a repeat experience of a dog with core fears too big to overcome. We prayed that we read the signs and heard the intended message correctly and that we did the right thing.
Our homecoming was very different than we had anticipated. Everyone was a little trepidatious and we spent the evening gently but as thoroughly as possible cleaning up the dogs. The family was still really excited about our adoption turned rescue, but we have so many unanswered questions and we are awed by our calling.
We trust that God has a wonderful plan for these two in our family. What we had first passed up for our reasons He gave to us for His. Knowing that His plans are better than mine (always) and that His ways are not my own which means I often cannot see what is happening until it's in the rear view mirror, surprisingly gives me much peace in this whole ordeal.
We saw God that day. He showed up in places and ways we would not have guessed. Our adoption was really a rescue story and we are blessed to be a part of His plan.
Welcome Hudson and Charlotte--we love you already!
