The Old Man and the Dog

[Cardinal]

The
Old Man and the Dog
by Catherine Moore

'Watch out! You nearly
broadsided 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
improved 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 hipbones 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 favorite 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. 'Be not forgetful to
entertain strangers.'

'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
and petty things, so laugh hard, love truly and forgive quickly.

Live
While You Are Alive.

Tell the people you love that you love them, at
every opportunity.

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
-- who cares?
But do share this with someone. Lost time can never be
found.

[Redlettervoice]

 . :goodpost:


:HeartThrob:

[jenna]

Amen to this. One never knows how God may work His wonders.

[jabcat]

Very touching.  I'm sharing this...thanks.

[rosered]

I know this is an old thread ,
But its  Lovely
  Love is  hard to describe in words 
  But we can see though all these experiences  in this story

Love is a bond    even in death  never changes 
you cannot experience  real love without  suffering   pain and loss and joy and peace  ,anger annoyances  and all those emotions that make us ''feel somthing inside  stirring  us up '' 
But love does not end in death but experiencing LIFE 
Good story Thanks Card for  bringing this   to the forum

[rosered]

     

Need to clarify ,
  The hubbs asked me , Why are we here ?   , whats the point if all are saved ?
  Why go though all this  , if God is going to fix it ?

Been praying to God for a good answer 
Love  is the reason we are all  here ,God is Love we must experience   God / Love  even if we dont know its GOD /Love  .     every thing experiences God  even if they do not know it at the time 

Love makes us   try and sacrifice  , understand guilt for not trying  , or frustration for trying 
when you do things for   good and they dont know its only whats best for them 
its those experiences and examples that teach us well   . to learn giving and recieving    Love /God , we must  put into  practice being  good at both 

[JulieTang84]

Tears before I finished and tears now. PRECIOUS!!!

Love julie.  :HeartThrob:

[Seth]

 
Need to clarify ,
  The hubbs asked me , Why are we here ?   , whats the point if all are saved ?
  Why go though all this  , if God is going to fix it ?

This is a struggle question for many UR believers, or people considering. I would answer your hubby to say that not all are presently saved, and that God sends out his ministers of reconciliation out to the people to preach the message, so that in believing, they receive the gift of the Holy Spirit, become Abraham's seed, and be saved from "this wicked generation" as Peter put it.  :HeartThrob:

[rosered]

 
Need to clarify ,
  The hubbs asked me , Why are we here ?   , whats the point if all are saved ?
  Why go though all this  , if God is going to fix it ?

This is a struggle question for many UR believers, or people considering. I would answer your hubby to say that not all are presently saved, and that God sends out his ministers of reconciliation out to the people to preach the message, so that in believing, they receive the gift of the Holy Spirit, become Abraham's seed, and be saved from "this wicked generation" as Peter put it.  :HeartThrob:

  Hi Seth , His question was more of ''Why at all ?''

Its a hard question  with no easy answer   to  me  :sigh:


   But  did note  what your saying.
  Salvation  , keeps us , preserves and delivers out of   iniquity  /sinful state of being  , by faith in the Lord Jesus Christ    [His body ]
I was looking at the mark  of the beast   , I was thinking Cain was the first  to  have this    and the seal  of God   ,  Do we have one or the other ?     I Think that is  the change to  salvation  from iniquity   

looking into Rev 16  was an eye opener  , and this is what started to whole conversation with the hubbs .

Rev 16:2 And the first went, and poured out his vial upon the earth; and there fell a noisome and grievous sore upon the men which had the mark of the beast, and upon them which worshipped his image.

noisome Strong's G2556 - kakos   
of a bad nature
not such as it ought to be
of a mode of thinking, feeling, acting
base, wrong, wicked
troublesome, injurious, pernicious, destructive, baneful    :eek:

now
grievous Strong's G4190 - ponēros

full of labours, annoyances, hardships !
pressed and harassed by labours
bringing toils, annoyances, perils; of a time full of peril to Christian faith and steadfastness; causing pain and trouble   
bad, of a bad nature or condition
in a physical sense: diseased or blind
in an ethical sense: evil wicked, bad  :sigh:


2Ti 2:19 Nevertheless the foundation of God standeth sure, having this seal, The Lord knoweth them that are his. And, Let every one that names the name of Christ depart from iniquity.
 

[Seth]

Hi Seth , His question was more of "Why at all ?"

Its a hard question with no easy answer to me

Ah, I see. Is he basically asking, why did God create us for this plan in the first place?

[JulieTang84]

Just to add my two cents. We are here to learn to LOVE.

No thing more is required or expected. Love heals, laughs, calls. There isn't anythingi that isn't better with love. Relationships of all types, health through the love off self.

All this makes perfect sense when one realizes another word for love is GRATITUDE.   :HeartThrob:

We are here to live and love with peace and joy always. The sooner all learn that nothing else matters than love forFather, the better.  :HeartThrob:

Love Julie :HeartThrob:

Spelling correctly: a smartphones only dream

[Seth]

 :iagree:

To walk in love is to be saved  :HeartThrob:

[rosered]

   Yes Julie  and Seth  that  was the answer that  gave him the AH HA moment ! :winkgrin:
  but   come after reading/realizing     the help   and examples  in  this   post /story

  how and what Love / God does  and is !! Spirit and Truth