This is a story of hope. It’s a dog tale, plain and simple. I originally wrote this post as part of the chronicles of a cross-country road trip, but this particular story, and Miracles and Dog Heaven both diverge from the road to share a story of great kindness and understanding that led to both hope and joy. If you’ve ever loved a dog, this may resonate with you. No dog? Maybe this will inspire you to find your own four-legged friend!
The year 2018 was a tough one in our family, and not for the faint of heart. Much loss on many levels, and just great change in almost every direction. Not the least of which was the loss of all three of our much-loved dogs in the space of 9 months. It was almost too much.
Our beloved Sheltie, Heinz, lived a very full and wonderful life, but the quality of that life faded dramatically near the end. In his mid-teens, his time had come. What a faithful, intelligent friend he was to all of us. He had been with the kids, now both in their 20s, from their preschool days He was a bit of a legend and his death marked the end of an era for sure.
Crosby, our young golden, passed away fairly suddenly in May. He was only three. I have no doubt that his death was related to surgery he had had a year earlier after eating a golf glove (he was a non-discriminating eater). The velcro had ripped apart a good chunk of his intestine, which had been removed. We thought he was fine, but looking back it seems pretty clear he never completely recovered internally. While that may explain it, the horror of it was not diminished with understanding. We took this one hard.
The last loss was perhaps the most difficult somehow. Rooney was 11, our original White Oak Golden Retriever, and had been dubbed “the greatest dog ever” often in his life. After losing the other two, I remember frequently telling him that he needed to be healthy and that we needed him. Intelligent, kind, faithful and true, not to mention beautiful, but it wasn’t enough. We think it was a brain tumor, and it was a very difficult demise to watch and understand. In November, that day came, the one you dread but also pray for, when it’s clear that it’s time.
I remember that week as a blur of sorrow. In addition to losing Rooney, the week concluded with the unexpected early ending of my daughter’s college soccer career. Her team had lost unexpectedly in the NCAAs, on a quest to what they had hoped would culminate in a national championship. It may not sound like a lot in the big scheme of life, but it was the sudden endings, the unforeseen ones, that were piling up and difficult to compartmentalize and manage.
But . . . hope. But . . . grace.
The day before we left to travel for her games that weekend, my parents stopped on their way from Pennsylvania. There had been a terrible snowstorm, which had caused the relocation of the game from Central PA to southern Virginia. During their brief stop, my dad and I were chatting, and he asked about the son of a friend and where he was going to college. I couldn’t come up with the name of the school or the town, though I knew it well enough. He couldn’t either.
We headed south the next day, but the name of that Virginia town would not come to me. Call me crazy – I realize I could’ve googled it and had the answer in seconds, or asked any of a hundred people I encountered in the next few days. Maybe I dwelt on it just for something to think about that was neither dog nor soccer-related. In any case, over the course of the next few days, it did not come to mind, though I wracked my brain.
And then the career-ending loss, and I found myself back in Northern Virginia earlier than we planned, sad all over again. That next morning, before I headed off to church, I sat down and composed an email to Jeanette, the fine breeder of both of my goldens. She and her husband Steve live in southern West Virginia and have become friends over the years. For some reason, I felt compelled to tell her about both Crosby and Rooney at that moment. I just felt like she needed to know. I also wanted to tell her that while I couldn’t possibly have a puppy right now, that perhaps in the summer it would be time. Living without a dog was unnerving and I had not been without one in my house for over 27 years. There was no way the house could be dog-empty for very long.
Returning from church a few hours later, there was a response to my email. I had known telling Jeannette about the dogs would be upsetting, and that’s why I had put it off. What I didn’t realize is that God used my apprehension to orchestrate events in His perfect timing. Jeannette’s email changed everything.
I’ve saved it and included a piece of it below . . .
“I am so so sorry Beth. This breaks my heart in two. Dogs are angels and I know they all go to heaven. An experience we had with one of our dogs taught me that beyond a shadow of doubt. I also know that a family like yours can’t live without the love of these amazing dogs.I know you said that you can’t take a puppy right now, but I have a little one (from the) current litter. I have two of them spoken for but I want you and your family to have one. Please think about it. . . . Please consider it. I can meet you in Lexington, Virginia (to drop her off).”
Lexington?! It was a thunderbolt, stop-me-in-my-tracks moment. She could meet me in Lexington? There it was. The name of the mystery town I couldn’t think of during the previous days. The town that I could have looked up in a heartbeat to satisfy my curiosity and bad memory. And a town I am quite familiar with, as the home of both Washington and Lee University and VMI. Now I can’t imagine how the name escaped me. Well, I kind of can, as clearly my bad memory was a key cog in God’s choreography.
But I was not ready for a puppy, for a variety of reasons. We had just lost Rooney days before – the loss was fresh and getting a puppy would feel horribly disloyal. And the expense – carefully and beautifully bred dogs are not inexpensive. Plus we were leaving for northern PA in three days, to celebrate Thanksgiving on our family farm. The list of reasons to say no was long.
But God used Jeannette to toss all these objections into the wind with one word – Lexington. Well, He used Jeannette and the photo of the puppy on the website. I couldn’t remember a time where God seem to be speaking so very clearly to me.
Our first peek at our girl in her website photo.
Regardless of all my objections, by day’s end I found myself on the phone to both kids and several friends, telling the story and seeking advice. Now I realize that the draw of a puppy is not unlike the pull of gravity. It has complete power over you, despite any objections you may voice.
And every single person, without exception, said the same thing.
“You were meant to have this puppy, and you must name her Lexington.”
Jeannette also shared another part of this story that ultimately served as further confirmation. These litters of theirs are carefully planned. Unexpectedly, three of their female dogs became pregnant and gave birth within two days of each other. This was not normal, as no breeder in their right mind would want to birth 20+ puppies in such a short period of time, let alone manage all the intense care that comes with them in the days and weeks to come. It’s back-breaking, endless work to help these puppies and their mothers navigate the world.
Of the 24 total puppies, Jeannette had decided early on to keep the best two females from the bunch (they were from different litters), and sell the rest. But the day before she received my email, she found out that a family needed to back out of a purchase of a female puppy from one of these litters. So now she had three girls. Jeanette decided that since the return was a sibling to one of the girls she had chosen to keep, it would be best in the end to keep siblings together. So #3 needed a home. Enter my email the following day.
I called Jeannette that evening, full of questions and concerns. She met all my “buts” with solutions and an extraordinary financial kindness. By the time I hung up, plans were in place for me to drive to Lexington in the morning and pick her up. Wait – her? I’d never owned a girl dog of my own before. I had no idea what that would be like. Jeannette assured me that a girl was exactly what I needed.
“She will heal your heart. She will bring you all love, laughter and happiness.
You all have been special to me and I’m glad to share her with you. Rooney and Crosby would have wanted it that way. “
Deal done. My daughter had wanted to include Hope in her name, as she seemed to be a symbol of that in our lives. And so off I went early the next morning to meet Lexington Hope in Lexington, Virginia. What a difference a day makes.
Meeting the girl in Lexington.
And the rest of the story is obvious. Lexington became Lexi, and at 10 months old, she has been a mender of hearts and a wonderful addition to the family and perfect companion. She has also been the easiest of puppies ever! Maybe that’s the girl part. I’m going with that.
My decision to take her west with me this summer was made partially out of necessity, as leaving her with 20-somethings who are in and out and have unpredictable days seemed like a poor choice for everyone. But I also chose to take her to have a buddy along. She proved to be the best possible companion, and at practically every turn, I experienced confirmation that my decision was correct.
Late this spring, as I planned my general route west, I knew that our first days of travel would take us through southern West Virginia. I prevailed upon Jeannette and Steve to let us stop in for a visit. I will be forever grateful to them for the gift of Lexi, and wanted to tell them again in person. She was the perfect answer in God’s perfect timing.
And so, with much excitement, we headed for the hills to see all the relatives. What a treasure of a day it would turn out to be!
Be sure to follow the blog for part two and our visit to White Oak Golden Retrievers. It’s puppy heaven!!
The best days are the wet and muddy days.
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