There are “dog” people, there are “cat” people, some people love ’em all, and some people just don’t like pets. We’re “dog people.”
One of our first dogs after Scott and I married was a Shetland sheepdog creatively named “Big Boy.” He was loyal, calm, and easy-going. When we had kiddos, Big Boy became a faithful, gentle companion to our boys. By instinct, he was a herding dog so he kept close to his two charges. We loved that dog!
We had a decent-sized backyard – big enough for a nice pile of dirt in one corner, a shed in another corner, and a pint-sized soccer/football/baseball field in the middle. That backyard was a magnet for the neighbor kids, and someone was always coming over to dig in our dirt or to play a ballgame with our sons. As the sun would begin to slide below the horizon, the phone would start to ring with moms asking me to send their kids home for dinner.
As our yard was emptying out one evening, someone forgot to shut the gate, and unknown to us for a couple of hours, Big Boy made a run for it.
We had dinner, threw the boys in the tub, and just before prayers and bedtime stories, we realized we hadn’t seen the dog for a while. We opened the backdoor and called his name, thinking maybe he was just relaxing behind the shed – his refuge when bats and baseballs and soccer balls were flying all over the yard. But no pup came to the door. Flashlights in hand, Scott led the way as we all walked to the side of the yard to find the gate open and the dog gone.
Scott and I each grabbed a set of keys and a pajama-clad little boy and jumped into our cars. We drove up and down several blocks and through the alleys with the windows down, calling Big Boy’s name. It was dark and way past the boys’ bedtime, so we met at the house and resigned ourselves to resuming the search in the light of day. The boys went to bed heartbroken and worried, and we prayed that God would send our Big Boy home.
The next morning, I called the newspaper and placed a “lost dog” ad (I know- archaic – but that’s what we did back in the day). We taped hand-made posters to stop signs all over the neighborhood. And we waited.
After a couple of weeks with zero leads, we and the boys had just about lost hope. The hardest part for me was seeing the boys’ sad little faces when they talked about Big Boy or walked in the door after school to ask if I’d heard anything from anyone about his whereabouts.
Then one day, Daddy walked in the door, and guess who was with him! Big Boy! Those little boys squealed with joy and excitement as their buddy ran straight to them and gave them a profuse amount of puppy kisses!
As Scott had been driving home from work that afternoon, he saw a little girl about eleven years old, and she was walking our dog! He didn’t want to scare her so he pulled over across the street from her and rolled down his window. He asked her if that was her dog, and she said, “Yes.” Then he asked her how long she’d had him. “A couple of weeks,” she replied. He asked her if he could talk to her parents, and fortunately, she was only a house or two away from home.
Scott waited while the girl went inside, and soon her mom came out. Scott told her the dog her daughter was walking was our dog. She acknowledged that Big Boy had wandered into their yard the day after he’d gone missing and they’d just taken him in. They’d instantly fallen in love with our gentle, sweet dog – and decided to keep him. When she saw how excited Big Boy was to see Scott, she didn’t hesitate to hand the leash to Scott, and they were homeward bound.
There’s a whole other story I could write about that family not even trying to find Big Boy’s owners. After all, they lived only blocks away and had surely seen our “lost dog” posters all over the neighborhood.
But what this story brings to my mind as I remember how elated my sons were to be reunited with their lost dog again is this: When one of God’s children “gets lost,” He doesn’t stop searching until He finds that precious child. And when He does, there’s a big welcome home party in heaven!
“Then Jesus told them this parable: ‘Suppose one of you has a hundred sheep and loses one of them. Does he not leave the ninety-nine in the open country and go after the lost sheep until he finds it? And when he finds it, he joyfully puts it on his shoulders and goes home. Then he calls his friends and neighbors together and says, “Rejoice with me; I have found my lost sheep.” I tell you that in the same way there will be more rejoicing in heaven over one sinner who repents than over ninety-nine righteous persons who do not need to repent.’” – Luke 15:3-7
And when you stop and remember that you’re the one God dropped everything to search for, you catch a glimpse of just how much He loves you!
