How Did a Hound Dog From Kentucky End Up in Our Back Yard?

Here I am sitting on the patio watching our 5 month old rescue dog Wali play ball with a joyful abandonment that only a puppy can display.  His new German shepherd friend Abby patiently rolls around on the ground with him as he hops from side to side, tail wagging.  

Wali is predominantly a Plott Hound (we think)—charming as all get out with keen observation skills and a large dose of wisdom thrown into the mix.  He’s also a cuddler.  What a guy!

                                 

Yet I can’t help but ask, “How did this hound dog from Kentucky end up in our back yard?  How did he get from ‘there’ to ‘here’?”  And most importantly as I write, what might this question have to do with not just me, but a lot of us other folks here on planet Earth when examined from a spiritual perspective? What in God’s name does God have to do with this? 

 

At first blush, it seems so simple—a series of individual, linear events pieced together where Louisville, Kentucky was the starting point and Bath, Ohio the end of the road.  Dog born, put in pound (hopefully for adoption and not death).  Rescue group from Kentucky connects with northeast Ohio animal lovers.   Volunteer and vet tech named Beth takes an extra look at Wali and says, “We’ll take this one.”  Beth fosters Wali at home and takes him to work regularly where he can become socialized.

 

That got Wali to Ohio.  And then there was me. . .

I walked into my vet’s to purchase medications for our cat.  There was this puppy walking around behind the office counter.  The plans were to put him up for adoption the following day at a rescue event.

                         

I wasn’t worried I would do anything so crazy as to purchase a dog on the spot.  I had been to a rescue open house a couple of weeks before and had resisted attempts by the sponsors to even consider any of the available dogs.  Our eleven year old dog Sophie had suddenly passed away four months previously and we just weren’t ready for another dog, especially my husband Joe (his exact words were, “no more dogs”).

All that pain after such a loss.  A real risk to open oneself up again.  And if we ever did get a dog, we wanted another yellow lab--definitely a female. We still had one dog.  Perhaps that was enough. But puppies, especially this one, look irresistible.

 

I’m not one who questions God’s hand in everyday life events.  But I do have a never-ending fascination and admiration with how absolutely ingenious the Divine and all those Holy Helpers on the Other Side can be.  How does God design the perfect plan so that a lonely little puppy from Kentucky finds his way into a grieving family’s heart in Ohio?

 

I contemplate that Wali’s journey to Ohio wasn’t just a bunch of random events.  Rather, they were really a series of choice points and decisions by a lot of people trying to “do right” by wanting to place a living creature in a place of safety and love.  I believe this noble intent and energy allowed Spirit to move forward, creating a whole host of opportunities for good things to happen. And I realize, more than ever, that God does a lot of good things that get us from “there” to “here” if we give the Divine freedom to act.

In life, I repeatedly am shown that Divine rules are pretty simple.  There’s God’s job and there’s my job.  Too often, my action-oriented, control freak self tries to do it all.  I’m good, but I’m not that good.  And you know how we humans can mess up things when we insist on having things our way.  In comes limited solutions, out goes Divine possibilities.

 

Yet when I allow (and “allow” is the key word) the Divine to do Divine work, and when I remain open to suggestions and listen to the inner, intuitive (rather than ego centered) voice within me—well. . .downright magic and miracles occur.  No kidding. The process isn’t that complicated.

Woody Allen once said, “If you want to make God laugh, tell Him your plans.”  Well, God may laugh at our plans, but I don’t think God ever laughs at our heart’s desires—those inner longings that are imbedded in the essence of our souls, that when they manifest in our lives, bring us much joy, peace, or love.

So no, I don’t believe Wali just “landed” in Ohio.  Somehow the Divine responded to my cry in the darkness, just not in the way I had expected nor on my timelines.

   

If a hound dog from Kentucky can end up in my back yard and bring so much joy after such a devastating loss, what else is possible?   It’s an especially good question for me, and perhaps others, to ask when hard times hit and the only view we can see is the one that spirals painfully downward.  

Wali’s gentle presence reminds me in a very concrete way that the Divine can only do so much without human cooperation.  I managed to pay attention this time and the result was far better than expected.  I really ought to practice these behaviors more often.