“God’s gonna bring me a big dog! I just know it!” Sabrina insisted repeatedly throughout the summer and into the fall.
Not really in the market for another canine, I would usually reply with something like, “Hmmm, we already have two perfectly healthy mutts, go love on one of them.”
“No, I definitely need a big dog, and we are definitely getting one!”
Sabrina’s faith is unwavering when it comes to matters such as this, and, I guess, it’s justified because dogs do just seem to miraculously walk into our lives.
Dave was no exception.
It was November 2014, about a week before Thanksgiving. An autumn breeze was blowing, a refreshing invitation to head outdoors and engage in that awesome southern tradition: neighborly conversation.
I was doing just that with my old pal Mr. Bob, when out of the corner of my eye, I caught a glimpse of something that shifted my attention from the woes of lawn care to the trials and tribulations of Motherhood.
Walking, no frolicking down the street was Sabrina…..and a dog.
A big dog.
“Look! Isn’t he great! He’s a stray, I just know he is! This is my new dog!”
Like in the movie Groundhog Day, the scene with Dave played out almost exactly like it did in 2007 when Buddy came into our lives.
Mom passes the buck to Dad.
Dad says no.
Dog fails to get the memo.
Mother Nature intervenes via a storm.
Dog hovers in flowerbed.
Dad retrieves dog.
Dog becomes family.
Though Dave is eternally grateful for Kurt’s stamp of approval, his loyalty will always rest with the persistent young girl who confidently waited for his arrival!