I didn't mention it yesterday, but yesterday was the anniversary of the day that my friend Toby came to live with me. I can clearly remember that day all these years later. In memory of that great day, I am posting the first chapter of the book I wrote about Toby. I posted the whole book chapter by chapter on the blog a couple of years ago, if you want to read the rest. This is the chapter that tells about that first day.
Chapter 1
When I was growing up, I was ill much of the time. I had a condition known as hypogammaglobulinemia that left my immune system very weak. I was especially susceptible to respiratory illness such as bronchitis and pneumonia.
Because of my illnesses, a lot of the kids at my school didn't want to have too much to do with me. I always had good dog friends though.
Early in 1985, I found myself with no dogs to call my friends. Furthermore, I was also facing some very hurtful issues at an extremely legalistic and cultic church my parents attended. I was right in the pressure cooker since I also attended the school operated by this same church. Each day, I was subjected to a stifling and rigid environment. My spirit was crushed, and a great weight of depression descended upon me.
It is like being in hell to every day walk on eggshells in fear of violating the tiniest rule and then facing punishment and humiliation. For instance, I once received detention for wearing a white shirt to school on the wrong day. White shirts were only to be worn on Tuesday and Thursday. Red shirts had to be worn on the other days.
Students were constantly warned not to be wordly. No music was allowed except Christian music, and that did not include contemporary, Christian music. Television was an instrument of the devil. If you mentioned a television show you may have watched it was an automatic two day detention.
Instead of Christmas being a time of joy, it was a time of sadness. Christmas trees were idols, and Santa Claus was a false god.
Someone in my physical condition faced even greater condemnation since sickness was seen as a punishment from God. If you were sick, obviously there was great sin in your life, and God was punishing you in order to bring you to repentance.
Throughout these years, I lived in fear, and I never felt any unconditional love. From what I knew, love was based on performance. Be good, get good grades, follow the rules and you were loved. Step out of line, and the hammer falls.
Bad health and crazy religion were getting too much for me. I say this with all candor. I doubt that I'd be writing today if on a Sunday in January of 1985 I hadn't read an advertisement in the Kansas City Star that changed my life forever.
Sunday, after church, I decided to read the dogs for sale section in the paper. My attention snapped to full focus when I saw one advertisement in particular that read:
Corgi for sale--1 1/2 year old male. Housebroken. $150
This was great. An adult dog who was smaller and already house trained. From the phone number listed in the ad, I knew that he wasn't very far away.
I found myself in some difficulty, however, when it came to convincing my parents that going to look at this dog was a good idea. Neither of my parents wanted a dog. They didn't like corgis either.
After about an hour of persuasion, as I dreaded every moment that my new dog might be heading to another home, I finally convinced my Mom to at least let me call and get some more information.
The lady who placed the ad said that this dog had been purchased as a show dog, but his feet were too small according to the breed standard. Also, the dog was primarily her son's dog, and since he'd gone off to college, she was selling the dog. By the way, she said the dog's name was Toby. I was sold right then. I always liked that name for a dog.
We made arrangements to go look at Toby that same afternoon. My Dad wasn't excited about getting out in the January cold, but he came along with us to the home of Toby.
The house was in a very, rural area, and the roads were icy and not well plowed. The drive leading up to the house was treacherous, and I remember the car sliding.
As we got out of the car, we were greeted by a great chorus of barking. All along the back of the house were rows of kennels housing various dogs. Near the house, a small, red and white dog came bounding toward me barking. A yell from the house turned the corgi around in his tracks. We followed him inside.
After the customary greetings, Toby's owner showed me some of the ribbons he'd won at puppy shows. She said that Toby loved hanging out with teenage boys, and that one of Toby's favorite activities was herding the neighbor's cows. All this time, Toby was hiding under the sofa.
Finally, we coaxed him out of hiding. If you can love a dog at first sight, I loved Toby. He had short legs with white on each paw and a solid white chest.
When my folks said that I could have him, I was thrilled. Toby's soon to be former owner was thrilled too. She said that two other families had been there before us, but both passed Toby up. There loss. He was mine now.
As I look back, I realize that it was grace that brought Toby and I together. Others had come to see him before me. Either of those families could have seen Toby's great character, and I've have never known about him. What caused me to look through the paper for dogs that afternoon? What made me even consider a corgi, a breed I'd never been particularly fond of? I believe it was all God's grace. He knew that we needed each other more than either of us knew at the time.
No comments:
Post a Comment