I know why they call them “man’s best friend”. They are unconditionally loving, overlooking your failures, always responding, eager to please, and somehow we learn to read each other’s faces.
There was always plenty of noise in the house and she listened well, knowing when to get up and respond, or to stay put until called. When the children were young and full of energy, as she was, hearing the noise of her claws clicking on the kitchen linoleum was constant—she was engaged. Any time someone was coming or going, she was the sentinel monitoring the activity. But not so much these days, it was just her and I; she knew when to get up or not.
I remember trying put my shoes on and sneak off one day to head across the main road to see my neighbor without her. It didn’t work. Her keen ears could always tell the sound of the x-country ski boot, my tennis shoe, or even a flip flop! She knew my next move by the sound of preparation.
Part of our day throughout the years included taking a walk or bike ride in the woods that surrounded our home. The neighbors had developed their ATV trails and we used them for walking, running, biking and skiing in the winter. We all enjoyed this setting; it was a wonderful place to call home.
“Should we mow today, girl, or wait until Thursday?” the place was quiet now, activities had slowed down and the listening ear had much less demand these days. It helped to converse with her, always a knowing look coming back at me. Her look responded to my tone, and now more than ever, my visage spoke to her.
I, along with many others I’ve talked to, have concluded that dogs are a wonderful gift from God; they are a tool in His Hand to demonstrate His love and care for us.
I remember how our youngest daughter, the one who begged for a puppy, would love to trick our canine into feeling like something big was happening, either a thief was present and she needed to respond in a protective mode or a visitor had arrived and we needed her welcoming skills. She was the classic Golden Retriever – effervescently wiggling, body swaying, scrunched up a bit, and swooning with love.
The process of letting her go was extraordinarily painful. I remember our final day together. On Monday evening, we drove down to one of her favorite places. Years earlier, our friends had turned a piece of land into a place of adventure, fun and most of all hospitality and love toward anyone who visited them. This was displayed through smells from wonderful cooking and the sights; it was a hobby farm perched on the ridge along Lake Champlain, and the sounds of a horse whinnying, chickens clucking or the faithful dog barking, as someone pulled up the long drive. It felt like home, even though we all usually left before bedtime. This would be her selection, if she could tell me where on earth she would like to spend her final 24 hours, this would be the place.
That Tuesday, August 1st, would be an emotionally consuming day by the time I pillowed my head that night. I tried to contain myself throughout the day, not wanting her to pick-up any more of my emotional scent than necessary. Thankfully, we were at a place that felt comfortable and held many good memories for us. When she was a pup we’d bring her down on our 4-H fun-days; she’d follow the horses as we’d ride, or cautiously go over and look at those curious birds pecking, pecking, pecking at the ground. And the people! So many people coming and going, stopping to visit; dropping something off, picking something up, and the holidays could not be beat. It was golden retriever grand-central and fit her enthusiastic personality nicely! Now, 13 years later, she was moving slower, her white face, surrounded by her reddish-golden coat, was tired. She had become the ole girl now, like the one she’d follow around as a pup learning the pathways and routines of the ridge.
As the afternoon sun grew warm and I looked at her lying in the thick green grass, it was bitter-sweet. So many memories tumbled through my heart. I needed to focus upon the good ones, if I did not, if I thought too much about all that had brought us to this day; I would not make it through. The relief of having sold the house 20 days earlier was good, but the strain of moving and now losing her was weighing upon me; so much loss, grief and pain, the temptation toward bitterness was great. The conversation earlier that morning loaded additional shame and blame upon me for doing what I thought was best for her. I was left to decide, the weight of the decision was heavy. And I was only halfway through this day. Like a mother trying to present a peaceful front to an unknowing child, I got up from the porch rocker and went to her, “Come on girl, let’s take a walk”. She got up with a bit of a grunt and gave me that look indicating it was worth it; just being together was worth it.
As I drove her to my veterinarian’s place for an after-hours appointment, I cried. I called a friend while driving and crying, who had recently euthanized their dog. He encouraged me that it was the best thing to do. That helped some; I needed some encouragement in this dark hour.
I was to face one more major hurdle before I spoke her name to her one last time. My friend, the vet, had a young assistant who wanted to intervene, offering to take my girl, obviating the appointment. She meant well but I could not consent. I alone knew my already desperate attempts to place her with someone; her inability to thrive in a new family, not eating, nor engaging with life around her. I had spent the past 3 weeks trying to leave her with different people only to find that she was shutting down and would not stay without enduring major stress. I was so distraught and desperate, I considered it, but when I asked if she had other dogs and learned she had 4 already, this was my relief sign from God that it was not an option. So we continued on.
I let her out of the van to sniff around one last time. I could tell she was reading me well. She got out and looked at me, wondering… was I leaving her there?, what was happening? I called her back to the van, her place of comfort, her place of belonging, with me. She laid down. With me beside her, petting her, the injections were given, she was gone.
Postscript:
Our dear friends, Ed & Lisa and their children–also gifts from God to me, had provided and prepared a burial place; I drove there, nearby, sullen, sad, crying, broken-hearted. Yet I knew it was best. Our dear ole girl was resting safe, no more worries for her.
Have you ever been so convinced of something, that you made a decision and took action and then wondered how or why you did that? … How could I have been so sure then and wondering why now? What can cause this to occur?
had come to a place of believing, knowing that He was the promised Messiah, yet they struggled through feelings of doubt and fear. They saw the miracles He performed to rescue people from sickness, disease and death, yet they doubted at times… “Was He really who He said he is?”, they thought. They faced this kind of fear often while journeying with Jesus and especially after he was crucified. They were in constant threat of persecution, arrest or even death. Self-preservation was all they knew up to this point in life; it is our natural course. Yet, down the road, something would happen to cause them to become fearless (Acts 4:31), in the face of threats and death.
separate us from the love of God. Once you’ve entered God’s Kingdom you gain power against the workers of darkness (Ephesians 6:12). Have you discovered yet, how real they are? Perhaps not. Perhaps you’re still thinking that dark thoughts come from your own shame, but they actually are planted; sown by your enemy. Satan has a host of “workers of darkness” that come to destroy faith.
Today, if you hear His voice, surrender to it. Do not harden your heart because of past pain, experience or failure. Come into the shelter of His arms and find rest. He will hold you there. There will still be battles until we get home to Heaven, but we will learn how to fight them and like Jesus disciples, we can become fearless in His name and by His power at work in us.
Writing is a good way to reflect back to yourself what’s within your heart. It is a great way to allow the Holy Spirit to teach you truth about yourself and your chosen course.
Please don’t abort your baby; I’ll adopt your child… REALLY? As I talked to these young women facing so much turmoil with their choice to abort their baby, I would often repeat the line that I had heard so many other pro-lifers say. On this particular day, as I stood outside the doors of the abortion clinic, those words hit me and I thought, Wow, would I really adopt her child? That is quite a commitment.
found out that she had an abortion. I didn’t know much about prenatal development, or abortion for that matter, but I sensed a dark foreboding when this informant told me. I felt sad for my friend. At that time I knew the church my family attended would have taken a strong stance against abortion and, therefore, I would have known it to be a major sin and very wrong. Because our family was devoted in our faith, I supposed this was the reason my friend never told me about it.
of the eight clinics closed. Focusing on the remaining clinics became a more manageable task, allowing for more focused ministry to those in need.
Then in October of 1997, my friend at the radio station, who was an advocate for adoption, mentioned to me twin girls with special needs that needed adopting. I had told her that if I am going to become a stay-at-home Mom, I would prefer to adopt several children at once. This prompted Dale and me to seriously consider beginning the adoption process — and we did. As it turned out the twin girls were adopted by another family, but the circumstance were used by God to get our paperwork going to begin our adoption process.
inappropriately, have placed a stumbling block in their way. Jesus talks about offenses in Luke chapter 17. He said they will come. But then in verse 2 He goes on to say that if someone offends (violates) a child, it would be better for him if a millstone were hung around his neck and he were cast into the sea, rather than causing a child to stumble. Wow, that is severe! The violation of a child through sexual molestation is severe. It does not slide into the category of 
guilt because you have been violated as a “little one” and that sent you down a dark road of sexual temptation, know that 
Remember, you may have been a victim, but you can choose today to walk toward a victorious life. God will take all of your dark places and bring light. He will give you the ability to walk in the light (I John 1:7). There is no better place to be.
Nancy Demary 