Waiting for Home

Yesterday, on the eve of the great snowstorm due to arrive any moment, it was 60 degrees and a perfect day to head off to Hollow Creek Farm to volunteer. Asherel and I lead hectic lives, between a full school schedule, art contests, art classes, dog classes, and her Destination Imagination Team and it is always a struggle to find time to fit in the hour drive each way and then a few hours' work time at HCF. But every single time we do, as we drive home, we both sigh deep sighs of contentment, feeling as though we have done something that is truly worthwhile. There is always something different that captures our hearts on those trips to help out at HCF. There is of course always the math problems we concoct as we pick up the dog poop in the back yard. If each of thirty dogs poops twice a day, how many piles will be there in a week.... a month.... a year.....
I am quite certain that were we to turn that poop into gold, it would exceed our national debt, and smell much nicer too.

Then of course there is always the pack of happy dogs galloping around us, dumping our shovels of excrement in their delight to be petted, thrown balls to, and screamed at as they bark at the horses lining the fence. There are always new dogs at HCF, and even if there were not, my memory of names is so horrendous that they always seem new. But this time, there was a dog that no one would forget, even me. He took one look at the two strangers entering his yard, and his big goofy face registered FRIENDS COMING!!!!!!! With a galoomph, he was rocketing toward us, but he was the strangest rocketing dog I had ever seen. His legs seemed to go every which way, with his tail gyrating wildly to try to keep him on course. Despite his best efforts, when he reached us, eagerly begging to be pet, his legs splayed in all directions and he crashed into me. Not the least bit upset by his ungainly greeting, he bounced up like a rubber ball and wriggled spasmodically, his whole body bursting with delight that humans had arrived. Other dogs crowded around us, and Walter, the rubber limbed dog licked them all and it was clear he was saying, "Hey fellas, look at this! Come share with me the joy of humans! I love you buddies and I love them! Oh isn't it a beautiful day!"

Walter has cerebellar hypoplasia. This non-progressive ailment which is a disorder of an incompletely developed cerebellum causes the animal to have uncoordinated, jerky gait....or, as we had observed crash into things and fall down occassionally. One would think that a dog with this disability would rant and rave at his creator, be angry and frustrated, wonder why of all the dumb creatures on earth that could have been afflicted with this, it had to be him? However, it was clear that Walter was just happy to be alive, happy to be in the presence of new friends, and every dog that he unwittingly smashed into. As Asherel and I scooped poop, Walter would exuberantly smash into my knees, sending poop flying, and then with his goofy grin, cuddle against me. Then he would see a dog on the other side of the yard, and untangle his rubber legs and sprint across the yard, in an endearing wobbly way.

As I watched him, I found myself praying that God would send this special dog a very special home. This dog needed- like all dogs do, but this one especially- a family that he could proudly crash into, and as he went sprawling to the ground, bark out, "I am home!"