On Friday night, my heart overruled my mind. It’s not the first time, and I’m afraid it won’t be the last.
A couple months ago, my husband asked the Cub Scout assistant den leader (I’ll call her Sarah) to let us know if she had leads on any Yorkshire Terriers that needed a home. I remember raising my eyebrows at this request because we have a Golden Retriever, Yorkie Poo and 3 cats already. Never mind the two growing boys running around our house.
This conversation began because Sarah happens to work at the veterinarian office that our family (parents/aunts/uncles and us) have used for over twenty years. The odd thing about this connection between us is that the assistant leader lives on the next street from us, but the vet’s office is a twenty-minute drive. There are dozens of veterinarian offices closer, but she is employed there. It’s also interesting because we don’t remember meeting Sarah until our sons joined Cub Scouts.
On Friday, Sarah called. A ten year old Yorkie was just surrendered to them. She told us the dog had a seizure and the owners couldn’t afford to test and find out what was wrong, so they left the dog at the vet’s office.
A ten year old Yorkie with seizures? My mind spoke up and said “I don’t’ think we can afford to handle that.”
Sarah explained that seizures can happen once and never happen again, or they could occur more often. They don’t medicate until the frequency is five times a month. If we didn’t take her they were going to have to put her down that night.
This is where my heart duct-taped my mind and stuffed it in a closet. I told her I needed to call my husband. Like me, my husband’s inclination was to say “no.” But when faced with (her) death, he didn’t hesitate before asking when he could pick her up. (One of the many reasons I love my husband – he seems tough and crusty on the outside, but he’s soft and gooey on the inside.)
Josie is a beautiful, sweet dog. My heart aches for her because she is in a strange place and doesn’t know that we already love her and will give her the best life we can. All she knows is that she isn’t home.
My breath catches with every twitch or odd movement. I hope Josie’s situation isn’t worse than the owners let on. This is where my mind goes when I try to figure out why the owners surrendered Josie to the vet. I don’t understand how one can leave a pet like that. I think I’d do things differently.
But really, when it comes down to it, it doesn’t matter what I think I would have done in that situation. All that matters is that God brought Josie into our lives. He has blessed us with the compassion to allow our hearts to speak for our minds.
After one night with Josie, I’d experienced a range of emotions and prayed for guidance. In this short time, I was reminded that life is a gift and love is stronger than fear.