The Dog of My
Dreams
I always liked
big dogs.
My idea of a
perfect dog
was a Great
Dane until
I met a
beautiful half-
breed, a part
St. Bernard,
all of the good
features,
and no slobber.
That’s
the dog I
wanted.
Seven years
later,
I had two kids
but no
St. Bernard mix.
And I
had pretty much
given up on
finding one.
But then when
visiting a
friend, there
stood a dog,
larger than life,
with St.
Bernard markings.
She was even
prettier
than the one I
first saw.
My friend said,
“Take her.
She’s a stray
with no collar.”
I took her
home, ecstatic
God had given
her to me.
Hubby even
recognized her
as the one I’d
been hoping for.
But happiness
was short lived.
We got a call
from a lady
a few miles
down the road.
She wanted her
dog back.
We had named
her Autumn
for her burnt
orange coat.
But she called
her Amber.
We returned the
dog.
That weekend I
wondered
why God would
send Amber
and then take
her away.
That night my
daughter and I
dreamed we got
her back.
I told her God
speaks that way,
at times. Then
we got a call—
the lady
looking for Amber.
She said if we
found her
we could have
her. Next,
our pastor, our
neighbor, phoned.
Earlier, I had
shared about Amber.
When we picked
her up,
he Cheshire cat
grinned
at God’s
goodness to bless us
with the dog of
my dreams.
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