>
>
>>This
is good and I would hope it to be true.
>>
>>It is so profound. If everyone would just
do it, how much better we would all be.
>>
>>Good
dog story. Get out hankies.
>>
>>
>>
>>>
>>>A Father, a Daughter and a Dog- A true story by Catherine Moore
>>>
>>>"Watch out! You nearly broad sided that car!" My father
yelled at me. "Can't you do anything right?"
>>>Those words hurt worse than
blows. I turned my head toward the elderly man in the seat beside me, daring
me to challenge him. A lump rose in my throat as I averted my eyes. I wasn't
prepared for another battle.
>>>"I saw the car, Dad . Please don't yell at me
when I'm driving.." My voice was measured and steady, sounding far
calmer than I really felt.
>>>Dad glared at me, then turned away and settled
back. At home I left Dad in front of the television and went outside to
collect my
>>>thoughts..... dark, heavy clouds hung in the air with a promise
of
>>>rain. The rumble of distant thunder seemed to echo my inner turmoil.
What could I do about him?
>>>
>>>Dad had been a lumberjack in Washington and
Oregon . He had enjoyed being outdoors and had reveled in pitting his
strength against the forces of nature. He had entered grueling
lumberjack competitions, and had placed often. The shelves in his house
were filled with trophies that attested to his prowess.
>>>
>>>The years
marched on relentlessly. The first time he couldn't lift a heavy log, he
joked about it; but later that same day I saw him outside alone, straining to
lift it.. He became irritable whenever anyone teased him about his advancing
age, or when he couldn't do something he had done as a younger
man.
>>>
>>>Four days after his sixty-seventh birthday, he had a heart
attack. An ambulance sped him to the hospital while a paramedic
administered CPR to keep blood and oxygen flowing.
>>>At the hospital, Dad was
rushed into an operating room. He was lucky; he survived. But
something inside Dad died. His zest for life was gone. He
obstinately refused to follow doctor's orders. Suggestions and offers of
help were turned aside with sarcasm and insults. The number of visitors
thinned, then finally stopped altogether. Dad was left alone..
>>>
>>>My
husband, Dick, and I asked Dad to come live with us on our small farm.
We hoped the fresh air and rustic atmosphere would help him adjust.
Within a week after he moved in, I regretted the invitation. It seemed
nothing
was satisfactory. He criticized everything I did. I became
frustrated and moody. Soon I was taking my pent-up anger out on
Dick. We began to bicker and argue.
>>>
>>>Alarmed, Dick sought out our
pastor and explained the situation. The clergyman set up weekly counseling
appointments for us. At the close of each session he prayed, asking God
to soothe Dad's troubled mind. But the months wore on and God was
silent. Something had to be done and it was up to me to do
it.
>>>
>>>The next day I sat down with the phone book and methodically called
each of the mental health clinics listed in the Yellow Pages. I
explained my problem to each of the sympathetic voices that answered in vain.
Just when I was giving up hope, one of the voices suddenly exclaimed, "I just
read something that might help you! Let me go get the article. I
listened as she read. The article described a remarkable study done at a
nursing home. All of the patients were under treatment for chronic
depression. Yet their attitudes had proved dramatically when they were
given responsibility for a dog..
>>>
>>>I drove to the animal shelter that
afternoon. After I filled out a
>>>questionnaire, a uniformed officer
led me to the kennels. The odor of disinfectant stung my nostrils as I
moved down the row of pens. Each contained five to seven dogs.
Long-haired dogs, curly-haired dogs, black dogs, spotted dogs all jumped up,
trying to reach me. I studied each one but rejected one after the other
for various reasons too big, too small, too much hair. As I neared the
last pen a dog in the shadows of the far corner struggled to his feet, walked
to the front of the run and sat down. It was a pointer, one of the dog
world's aristocrats. But this was a caricature of the
breed.
>>>
>>>Years had etched his face and muzzle with shades of gray. His
hip bones jutted out in lopsided triangles. But it was his eyes that
caught and held my attention. Calm and clear, they beheld me
unwaveringly.
>>>
>>>I pointed to the dog. "Can you tell me about him?" The
officer looked, then shook his head in puzzlement. "He's a funny one.
Appeared out of nowhere and sat in front of the gate. We brought him in,
figuring someone would be right down to claim him. That was two weeks
ago and we've heard nothing. His time is up tomorrow." He gestured
helplessly. As the words sank in I turned to the man in horror.. "You mean
you're going to kill him?" "Ma'am," he said gently, "that's our policy.
We don't have room for every unclaimed dog."
>>>
>>>I looked at the pointer
again. The calm brown eyes awaited my
>>>decision. "I'll take him," I
said. I drove home with the dog on the
>>>front seat beside me.. When I
reached the house I honked the horn twice. I was helping my prize out of
the car when Dad shuffled onto the front porch... "Ta-da! Look what I
got for you, Dad !" I said excitedly.
>>>
>>>Dad looked, then wrinkled his
face in disgust. "If I had wanted a dog I would have gotten one. And I
would have picked out a better specimen than that bag of bones. Keep
it! I don't want it" Dad waved his arm scornfully and turned back
toward the house.
>>>
>>>Anger rose inside me.. It squeezed together my throat
muscles and pounded into my temples. "You'd better get used to him, Dad.
He's staying!"
>>>
>>>Dad ignored me.. "Did you hear me, Dad?" I
screamed. At those words Dad whirled angrily, his hands clenched at his
sides, his eyes narrowed and blazing with hate. We stood glaring at each
other like duelists, when suddenly the pointer pulled free from my grasp. He
wobbled toward my dad and sat down in front of him. Then slowly,
carefully, he raised his paw..
>>>
>>>Dad's lower jaw trembled as he stared at
the uplifted paw confusion replaced the anger in his eyes. The pointer
waited patiently. Then Dad was on his knees hugging the
animal.
>>>
>>>It was the beginning of a warm and intimate friendship.
Dad named the pointer Cheyenne. Together he and Cheyenne explored the
community. They spent long hours walking down dusty lanes. They spent
reflective moments on the banks of streams, angling for tasty trout. They
even
started to attend Sunday services together, Dad sitting in a pew and Cheyenne
lying quietly at his feet.
>>>
>>>Dad and Cheyenne were inseparable throughout
the next three years.
>>>Dad's bitterness faded, and he and Cheyenne made many
friends. Then late one night I was startled to feel Cheyenne's cold nose
burrowing through our bed covers. He had never before come into our bedroom
at
night.. I woke Dick, put on my robe and ran into my father's room. Dad lay in
his bed, his face serene. But his spirit had left quietly sometime during the
night.
>>>
>>>Two days later my shock and grief deepened when I discovered
Cheyenne lying dead beside Dad's bed. I wrapped his still form in the
rag rug he had slept on. As Dick and I buried him near a favourite
fishing hole, I silently thanked the dog for the help he had given me in
restoring Dad's peace of mind.
>>>
>>>The morning of Dad's funeral dawned
overcast and dreary. This day looks like the way I feel, I thought, as I
walked down the aisle to the pews reserved for family. I was surprised to see
the many friends Dad and Cheyenne had made filling the church.. The pastor
began his eulogy. It was a tribute to both Dad and the dog who had changed
his
life.
>>>
>>>And then the pastor turned to Hebrews 13:2. "Do not neglect to
show hospitality to strangers, for by this some have entertained angels
without knowing it." "I've often thanked God for sending that angel," he
said.
>>>
>>>For me, the past dropped into place, completing a puzzle that I
had not seen before: the sympathetic voice that had just read the right
article... Cheyenne's unexpected appearance at the animal shelter .
>>>...his
calm acceptance and complete devotion to my father. . and the proximity of
their deaths. And suddenly I understood. I knew that God had answered my
prayers after all.
>>>
>>>Life is too short for drama or petty things, so laugh hard, love truly and
>>>forgive quickly. Live While You Are Alive. Forgive now those who made you
>>>cry. You might not get a second time.
>>>
>>>And if
you don't send this to at least 4 people ---nobody cares.. But do share this
with someone. Lost time can never be found.
>>>
>>>God answers our prayers in
His time........not ours..
>>>
>>>
>>
>>
>>
>>
>>
>>
>
>
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