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From Bob Uda's beforeitsnews.com

doofiegirl BTO-t- BCRA-F ~PWCM~ 2011/01/01 00:03:46
Related Topics: Pew, Prayer, Career, God
Living for Jesus

God answers Prayers in His way

From Bob Uda's beforeitsnews.com
Michael Vick's New Dog?
Fri Dec 31 2010 13:25




When I first heard about Michael Vick and how he treated dogs, I was incensed. I couldn’t care less about Michael Vick and his pro-football career. However, I have had many dogs throughout life, and I love dogs dearly. Our two poodles are like children to us as we now are empty nesters. Recently, I heard that Michael Vick wanted a pet dog. That idea did not sit well with me. I joined a “Causes” group called “Stop Michael Vick from having Another Dog” to keep him from hurting another animal. This group already has over 22,000 members.

However, should Michael Vick ever be allowed to own a pet dog, I hope he will read the below story by an anonymous author. I hope and pray that Michael Vick would internalize the moral of this story and live his life the way this old man lived the last three years of his life with his new decrepit, old pointer dog (he named Cheyenne) that his daughter obtained from the dog pound a day before it was to be put to sleep. The warm story is something we all can take to heart and always remember that a dog is man’s best friend.

Dogs should be loved. They should not be tortured in dogfights, killed, or mistreated. Dogs should not be eaten either. People should be dealt with the same way they treat dogs.



An Old Man and His Dog

"Watch out! You nearly broad-sided that car!" my father yelled at me. "Can't you do anything right?" Those words hurt worse than blows. I turned my head toward the elderly man in the seat beside me, daring me to challenge him. A lump rose in my throat as I averted my eyes. I wasn't prepared for another battle. "I saw the car, Dad. Please don't yell at me when I'm driving." My voice was measured and steady, sounding far calmer than I really felt. Dad glared at me, then turned away and settled back. At home, I left Dad in front of the television and went outside to collect my thoughts. Dark, heavy clouds hung in the air with a promise of rain. The rumble of distant thunder seemed to echo my inner turmoil. What could I do about him?

Dad had been a lumberjack in Washington and Oregon. He had enjoyed being outdoors and had reveled in pitting his strength against the forces of nature. He had entered grueling lumberjack competitions and had placed often. The shelves in his house were filled with trophies that attested to his prowess. The years marched on relentlessly. The first time he couldn't lift a heavy log, he joked about it; but later that same day, I saw him outside alone, straining to lift it. He became irritable whenever anyone teased him about his advancing age or when he couldn't do something he had done as a younger man.

Four days after his sixty-seventh birthday, he had a heart attack. An ambulance sped him to the hospital while a paramedic administered CPR to keep blood and oxygen flowing. At the hospital, Dad was rushed into an operating room. He was lucky; he survived. But something inside Dad died. His zest for life was gone. He obstinately refused to follow doctor's orders. Suggestions and offers of help were turned aside with sarcasm and insults. The number of visitors thinned and finally stopped altogether. Dad was left alone.

My husband, Dick, and I asked Dad to come live with us on our small farm. We hoped the fresh air and rustic atmosphere would help him adjust. Within a week after he moved in, I regretted the invitation. It seemed nothing was satisfactory. He criticized everything I did. I became frustrated and moody. Soon I was taking my pent-up anger out on Dick. We began to bicker and argue. Alarmed, Dick sought out our pastor and explained the situation. The clergyman set up weekly counseling appointments for us. At the close of each session he prayed, asking God to soothe Dad's troubled mind.

But the months wore on and God was silent. Something had to be done and it was up to me to do it. The next day, I sat down with the phone book and methodically called each of the mental health clinics listed in the Yellow Pages. I explained my problem to each of the sympathetic voices that answered in vain. Just when I was giving up hope, one of the voices suddenly exclaimed, "I just read something that might help you! Let me go get the article." I listened as she read. The article described a remarkable study done at a nursing home. All of the patients were under treatment for chronic depression. Yet their attitudes had improved dramatically when they were given responsibility for a dog.

I drove to the animal shelter that afternoon. After I filled out a questionnaire, a uniformed officer led me to the kennels. The odor of disinfectant stung my nostrils as I moved down the row of pens. Each contained five to seven dogs. Long-haired dogs, curly-haired dogs, black dogs, spotted dogs all jumped up, trying to reach me. I studied each one but rejected one after the other for various reasons: too big, too small, too much hair. As I neared the last pen a dog in the shadows of the far corner struggled to his feet, walked to the front of the run and sat down. It was a pointer, one of the dog world's aristocrats, but this was a caricature of the breed.

Years had etched his face and muzzle with shades of gray. His hip bones jutted out in lopsided triangles. However, his eyes caught and held my attention. Calm and clear, they beheld me unwaveringly. I pointed to the dog. "Can you tell me about him?" The officer looked, and then shook his head in puzzlement. "He's a funny one. He appeared out of nowhere and sat in front of the gate. We brought him in, figuring someone would be right down to claim him. That was two weeks ago and we've heard nothing. His time is up tomorrow." He gestured helplessly.

As the words sank in I turned to the man in horror. "You mean you're going to kill him?" "Ma'am," he said gently, "that's our policy. We don't have room for every unclaimed dog." I looked at the pointer again. The calm brown eyes awaited my decision. "I'll take him," I said. I drove home with the dog on the front seat beside me. When I reached the house I honked the horn twice. I was helping my prize out of the car when Dad shuffled onto the front porch.

"Ta-da! Look what I got for you, Dad!" I said excitedly. Dad looked, and then wrinkled his face in disgust. "If I had wanted a dog I would have gotten one. And I would have picked out a better specimen than that bag of bones. Keep it! I don't want it." Dad waved his arm scornfully and turned back toward the house. Anger rose inside me. It squeezed together my throat muscles and pounded into my temples. "You'd better get used to him, Dad. He's staying!"

Dad ignored me. "Did you hear me, Dad?" I screamed. At those words Dad whirled angrily, his hands clenched at his sides, his eyes narrowed and blazing with hate. We stood glaring at each other like duelists, when suddenly the pointer pulled free from my grasp. He wobbled toward my dad and sat down in front of him. Then slowly, carefully, he raised his paw. Dad's lower jaw trembled as he stared at the uplifted paw. Confusion replaced the anger in his eyes. The pointer waited patiently. Then Dad was on his knees hugging the animal.

It was the beginning of a warm and intimate friendship. Dad named the pointer Cheyenne. Together he and Cheyenne explored the community. They spent long hours walking down dusty lanes. They spent reflective moments on the banks of streams, angling for tasty trout. They even started to attend Sunday services together—Dad sitting in a pew and Cheyenne lying quietly at his feet. Dad and Cheyenne were inseparable throughout the next three years. Dad’s bitterness faded, and he and Cheyenne made many friends.

Then late one night, I was startled to feel Cheyenne’s cold nose burrowing through our bed covers. He had never before come into our bedroom at night. I woke Dick, put on my robe, and ran into my father's room. Dad lay in his bed, his face serene. But his spirit had left quietly sometime during the night. Two days later my shock and grief deepened when I discovered Cheyenne lying dead beside Dad's bed. I wrapped his still form in the rag rug he had slept on. As Dick and I buried him near a favorite fishing hole, I silently thanked the dog for the help he had given me in restoring Dad's peace of mind.

The morning of Dad's funeral dawned overcast and dreary. This day looks like the way I feel, I thought, as I walked down the aisle to the pews reserved for family. I was surprised to see the many friends Dad and Cheyenne had made filling the church. The pastor began his eulogy. It was a tribute to both Dad and the dog that had changed his life. And then the pastor turned to Hebrews 13:2. "Do not neglect to show hospitality to strangers, for by this some have entertained angels without knowing it." "I've often thanked God for sending that angel," he said.

For me, the past dropped into place, completing a puzzle that I had not seen before: the sympathetic voice that had just read the right article. Cheyenne's unexpected appearance at the animal shelter—his calm acceptance and complete devotion to my father—and the proximity of their deaths. And suddenly I understood. I knew that God had answered my prayers after all. Life is too short for drama or petty things, so laugh hard, love truly, and forgive quickly. Live while you are alive. Forgive now those who made you cry. You might not get a second time. Lost time can never be found. God answers our prayers in His time—not ours!
You!
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  • Divided States of America 2011/03/24 02:02:44
    Divided States of America
    I could not stomach all this crap,so didn't read it all.Humans are treated worse than dogs in most parts or the world.I don't like dogs ,so I could care less what happens to them.I have a monitor lizard and some eat them and use them for hides.I feel a little bad for the other lizards,but that's just life.It's sad many seem to care about a animal,yet could care less about another humans life.People that have pets and pay more to raise and help the pet rather than struggling humans should burn in hell.
  • doofieg... Divided... 2011/03/24 02:17:53
    doofiegirl  BTO-t- BCRA-F ~PWCM~
    Poor baby! You Do have a problem!
  • Divided... doofieg... 2011/03/24 02:48:20
    Divided States of America
    I have moral perspective ,others have a problem,but I spend more to feed my pet than I send to others directly.I guess that makes me somewhat of a hypocrite ,but I don't care if I go to hell.
  • doofieg... Divided... 2011/03/24 02:50:33
    doofiegirl  BTO-t- BCRA-F ~PWCM~
    Like I said,it's Your problem.
  • Beccy 2011/03/24 01:33:40
    Beccy
    +1
    What a wonderful story Thank you for sharing.
  • dlsofsetx 2011/01/04 21:49:28
    dlsofsetx
    +1
    Nice story.
  • doofieg... dlsofsetx 2011/01/04 22:37:47 (edited)
    doofiegirl  BTO-t- BCRA-F ~PWCM~
    +1
    Have you ever read any of Bob Uda's stuff? He's a soda head, an author, a news gatherer for beforeitsnews.com., and a Constitutional conservative. Welcome to soda head.
  • dlsofsetx doofieg... 2011/01/06 01:47:21
    dlsofsetx
    +1
    I will read more.
  • doofieg... dlsofsetx 2011/03/24 01:39:10
    doofiegirl  BTO-t- BCRA-F ~PWCM~
    bobuda@roadrunner.com
  • dlsofsetx doofieg... 2011/03/24 21:24:31
    dlsofsetx
    +1
    Thank you.
  • doofieg... dlsofsetx 2011/03/24 21:42:38
    doofiegirl  BTO-t- BCRA-F ~PWCM~
    +1
    That really Is a good address!
  • Andrew 2011/01/03 06:42:44
    Andrew
    Thats sick.
  • doofieg... Andrew 2011/01/03 10:19:55
    doofiegirl  BTO-t- BCRA-F ~PWCM~
    (?) You have a problem with what exactly?
  • thegalnextdoor 2011/01/02 18:02:35
    thegalnextdoor
    +1
    My dog was a dump-off along an inter-state highway. My entire family [three households] wouldn't trade him for any other dog. And I am a cat person so go figure-- as soon as I know how to load a photo here-his photo will be my picture. Mr. Vick should go do community service at an animal shelter for abused animals if he seriously wants a dog. He can love them there.
  • sglmom 2011/01/02 07:51:24
    sglmom
    +1
    Forget Vick ...

    THIS is the story we need to see ... how someone .. is able to find peace as they approached the end of their life ... and spread that peace to so many others too.
  • debadow 2011/01/02 05:29:21
    debadow
    +1
    That Monster should never be allowed to own a Dog.
  • oldguy 2011/01/02 03:51:18
    oldguy
    +2
    Vick can want on!
    Remember when God created Adam and Eve,He(and Jesus) first created animals,and fixed up everything just as a couple fixes up a special place for their newborn to come into.I bet He had some very special animals in the "Garden of Eden"?And He still has very special animals to brighten our days,giving much,and expecting little,but always craving a kind word,or a gentle touch.
    It's wonderful to see the therapy this dog was,and the therapy they can be for all of us! It sure touched my heart. "Thank God"for His wonderful creation!
    oldguy
  • SoCalEx-Dem 2011/01/01 23:25:19
    SoCalEx-Dem
    +2
    Very touching story. Had me in tears, I'm a sucker for a dog story. Still no dog for Vick. Didn't the court say he couldn't own a dog? That should be the end of that, it was part of his sentence.
  • Faith † 2011/01/01 23:18:44
    Faith †
    +1
    WOW that was...amazing. The pastor was right.

    Vick doesn't matter
  • Jackie 2011/01/01 22:00:59
    Jackie
    +2
    What a wonderful story. And a good cry to start the New Year.

    As for Vick I think owning a pet and loving it would be the best way to bring focus to how wrong he was before. He would gain the ability for empathy. A real dog, not the kind they breed for fighting. Maybe a golden retriever or a black lab.
  • Eppie 2011/01/01 20:30:33
    Eppie
    +4
    Vick should never have another pet-not a dog, not a cat, not a gerbil-not even a pet mouse. One either loves animals or one does not. Vick is a cruel, heartless person, and he does not deserve to own a precious dog-not ever.
  • Racefish 2011/01/01 18:03:37
    Racefish
    +4
    My wife used to be an activity director in a nursing home. She was also a certified rec therapist. Her job was to alleviate the boredom and help people through their down times. Any animal, a dog,cat, bird, whatever, helped people look for something in life instead of their own problems.
  • Freckles 2011/01/01 18:00:07
    Freckles
    +2
    What a wonderful, wonderful story!!!! God, works in mysterious ways his wonders to perform...
  • doofieg... Freckles 2011/01/01 20:36:24
    doofiegirl  BTO-t- BCRA-F ~PWCM~
    +1
    Hi there love! How in the world are you? Haven't seen you in Forever!
  • phoenix AFCL 2011/01/01 17:39:42
    phoenix AFCL
    +4
    What a sweet and thoughtful story, girl. Thank you for the post. I almost teared up. Funny... my sister and I were just talking about 'angels unaware' the other night. Kindness to others often boomerangs back to us in strange and comforting ways.
  • doofieg... phoenix... 2011/01/01 23:48:35 (edited)
    doofiegirl  BTO-t- BCRA-F ~PWCM~
    +1
    Just about Everything I put out here comes from Bob Uda! He is an amazing man! bobuda@roadrunner.com
  • phoenix... doofieg... 2011/01/03 23:24:58
    phoenix AFCL
    +1
    Thank you for the link, girl. :)
  • Frank 2011/01/01 17:30:58
    Frank
    +5
    I don't give Vick a second thought, he is what he is.... You haven't lived until you've loved a dog........
  • taitaFalcon23 2011/01/01 17:15:41
    taitaFalcon23
    +2
    Michael Vick committed a very serious wrong; he has paid and is paying for it under the current guidelines of the law and justice. He can only say he is 'sorry' a finite number of times and number of ways. At some point, people will have to accept that he can earn his forgiveness and then move on. Any success he experiences in the future will be separate from the chaos that he committed thru his ignorance and insensitivity to animals. Bashing him further is nothing more than a cheap shot of casting stones from a glass house.
  • danjac1263 taitaFa... 2011/01/02 00:04:15
    danjac1263
    +3
    I dont bash him anymore,but he should not ever be held up in a positive manner. Ill forgive him when those dogs he killed come back to life, and the ones he left battered and broken regain their normal existance. ObaMao once again sticking his damn nose in things that dont concern him.
  • taitaFa... danjac1263 2011/01/02 03:36:01
    taitaFalcon23
    The President made a phone call as a private citizen - it has nothing to do with the office he holds. I don't 'pardon' Mr.Vick and I don't personally forgive him and I certainly have not forgotten what he has done. As a dog lover myself, I don't understand treating animals this way; but moving on has to do with 'our' healing - not Mr. Vick's ....
  • doofieg... taitaFa... 2011/01/02 03:41:32
    doofiegirl  BTO-t- BCRA-F ~PWCM~
    +3
    Sorry! The pos can't be a "private citizen" if he does Everything publicly!
  • danjac1263 taitaFa... 2011/01/02 04:46:47
    danjac1263
    +2
    He also knew that private citizen call would be in the news.Nice try.
  • doofieg... danjac1263 2011/01/02 12:58:58 (edited)
    doofiegirl  BTO-t- BCRA-F ~PWCM~
    I forgot to add that everything he does is Not public! He makes deals and passes crap behind closed doors. It's just when he's campaigning he goes public! I think I blocked that one, so I didn't try to reply to her.
  • phoenix... danjac1263 2011/01/03 23:32:34
    phoenix AFCL
    +2
    There was a tv show "Dogtown" last year that hi-lighted the rehabilation of some of the Vick dogs. You could not watch that, seeing what those animals had been put through, and ever, ever think a monster like Vick should be responsible for the well-being of another animal.

    There was one dog, 'Georgia', who was absolutely magnificient!! A gorgeous animal. Apparantly they had bred her like crazy. She was big, strong and highly aggressive. When they were finally able to get their hands on her, they found that all her teeth had been pulled. I almost cried. Another smaller dog was soooo timid. They felt she/he (can't remember) had been used as a bait dog. It cowered in a corner. It wasn't even able to walk on a leash and was terrified of other dogs. The trainers had to pick it up and carry it from place to place. It just breaks your heart. They should make Vick watch those programs over & over & over. Think it would do any good?
  • danjac1263 phoenix... 2011/01/04 18:07:13
    danjac1263
    +2
    And yet the Vick supporters for some odd reason dont want these stories told. I wonder why?
  • phoenix... danjac1263 2011/01/04 22:30:53
    phoenix AFCL
    +1
    For the same reason Goldman Sachs employees got millions of dollars in bonuses and WH appointments instead of jail time. No one stands for principles, decency and honor anymore. People like Vick are their poster child.
  • doofieg... phoenix... 2011/01/04 19:47:27
    doofiegirl  BTO-t- BCRA-F ~PWCM~
    +1
    Caesar Milan took a few of them too.From what I understand, only a few had to be destroyed. I doubt Vick would learn anything from watching . There was too much about the same thing Before he did it!
  • phoenix... doofieg... 2011/01/04 22:29:39
    phoenix AFCL
    +1
    Sadly, I think you are right, girl.
  • Don Heath 2011/01/01 16:56:09
    Don Heath
    +2
    To heck with Vick. thanks for this story.. very moving!

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