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Ann Farabee: My Buddy

 

 

The morning brought a beautiful surprise – snow covered ground. Our view through the front storm door of our home gave us the best of both worlds – warmth- and watching the snow fall.

 

Our cock-a-poo, Buddy, stood close by – feverishly barking at each flake.

 

When we opened the door for one split second to see how cold it felt – Buddy darted out, as if he had been plotting his freedom for months. We ran outside in our robes, pajamas, and slippers, screaming his name, “Buddy! Buddy!” He was gone.

 

He had gone past his boundaries of protection – our home- and the fenced in space in the back yard where he was allowed to run freely.

 

The roads were difficult to traverse that day, but we started driving through neighborhoods to look for him, windows down, while crying out his name.

 

As darkness fell, my hope dimmed. He had never been outside the security of home – and it was a dangerous place to be. I knew by now he would be running aimlessly – trying to find his way back.

 

Signs were placed along the roadside. We drove daily from house to house – calling his name. Two weeks later, we received word that someone had just found him, fed him, gotten him warm, and had taken him to an animal shelter, hoping someone would come looking for him. Someone did.

 

He was cowered down in the corner of a cage in the shelter. I tenderly and tearfully whispered his name, “Buddy.” He looked up at me, stared for a second – dazed and confused by the surroundings – perhaps wondering how he had gotten to such a low point.

 

He kept looking up at me- seemingly despondent – and then slowly realizing he was looking into the eyes of one who loved him – and had been searching for him.

 

I whispered, “Let’s go home, Buddy.” He jumped up – barked – and began clawing his way out of the cage, as if his life was being restored. It was.

 

The door was opened. How that little dog was able to jump that high up into my arms, I guess I will never understand. Or was it perhaps the joy that comes from being lost and then found?

 

Oh, my Buddy, why did you leave the boundary we had in place for you?

*It was there for your safety – for your protection.

*You knew better – but went anyway.

*One decision took you on a journey to a place you did not want to be.

*One decision took you on a journey to a place you did not need to be.

*One decision took you on a journey to a place you did not belong.

*Not only did you suffer – but those who loved you suffered, too.

 

As we got in the car to leave the shelter that day, Buddy had no doubts as to whether he was forgiven and fully restored. Nor did he have concerns as to whether or not he was lost or found. He knew. He was going home.

 

I still am not sure if I was holding on to him – or if he was holding on to me during that ride home. I somehow think it was both.

 

Ann is a speaker and teacher. Contact her at annfarabee@gmail.com or annfarabee.com

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