Have you ever looked through old snapshots and been flooded with memories? Have you ever been owned by a dog? Have you ever built a doghouse? Well, I’ve done all those things!

A couple of days ago, I discovered an old photo album full of black and white pictures dating back to the early 60’s. Not good quality pictures, that’s for sure! Some were faded a bit even though they haven’t seen the light of day all those years.

A couple of weeks after getting married in June, 1960, we packed up our ’53 Chevy and headed to a tiny little village in Illinois. Everything we owned, including our wedding gifts, fit in our car.

We moved into a little combination trailer with an added room. There was a basement under both parts of our home. The trailer was only 24 feet long. It had a five gallon water heater which made showers very short. The bathroom was so tiny, we had to go outside to change our mind! (g)

One day, we were sitting at the little fold down table having lunch. We were listening to a local radio station. The Swap Shop program came on. A lady called in and had a puppy to give away. Something about the way she described the puppy grabbed our attention. The lady lived about a mile down the road. We jumped in the car and went down to see the little rascule! He was a miniature collie. No, he didn’t have papers, although we soon learned the connection between our new addition and papers! (g)

We named him “Tippy” because the tip of his tail was white. Tippy was a very smart dog. Okay, I know what you’re thinking. Your dog is/was a very smart dog. Well, let me tell you a story.

There were six houses in our village and a Grange Hall. Our beginning congregation rented the Grand Hall for five dollars a week. At times, that was almost more than we could afford. One of our residents was the road commissioner for our township. That meant that our roads were plowed out very well in the winter. Another man was like the mayor. He owned the water well that supplied all of us with our water. When a belt slipped off the pump, we all did without.

This gentleman also owned the metal grain storage bins over the railroad tracks. He also owned a bunch of sheep. One day, he came to our door and told me what Tippy was up to. Tippy had begun meeting him at the gate when he drove his tractor down to lead his sheep to the pasture. There was a rope on the gate. Tippy, it seemed, had learned to open the gate by pulling on the rope. In fact, he’d show up a little ahead of the man on the tractor and open the gate, go in, back into the gate until it closed, then herd the sheep to the pasture.

Our neighbor asked if we cared whether or not Tippy took over this duty. We didn’t mind. We marvelled at the genetic instinct that led this sheep dog (who’d never seen a sheep until he came to live with us) to “do his job” by herding the sheep.

This went on for more than a year. Tippy learned all kinds of other tricks, too. I decided to build him a doghouse. I’m not a carpenter by nature or nurture! However, I figured it couldn’t be that hard to build a small, simple doghouse. I found some used two by fours. I drew up a simple drawing and laid the lumber out on the ground. However, I made a few mistakes. By laying the boards with the wide end down instead of the narrow end, I ended up with a humongous structure. I insulated it, put shingles on top, and put a nice piece of naugahyde over the door.

One night, shortly before the doghouse was habitable, we came home and Tippy was gone. Later, we learned that someone had seen a car stop in front of our home. We surmised that Tippy had been dognapped! We looked and looked for his body, just in case he’d been hit by a car. Never found hide nor hair.

By this time, we were pregnant with our first child. I believed we needed another dog, so I went to the local shelter and came home with a large, full-grown collie. We named him Laddie. Now, I could easily say that God allowed me to build this huge doghouse for a little dog, knowing that by the time it was finished, we’d have a dog who needed a huge home! All I know is that He brought a good conclusion out of all my building goofs!

Laddie was a good dog. He would watch our little boy when we put him on a blanket outside the door. Of course, we were close by watching, too! When Tim crawled toward the edge of the blanket, Laddie would take his long nose, put it gently under Tim’s tummy and push him back on the blanket. Tim never once made it to freedom in the grass. When we moved, we gave the doghouse to our road commissioner neighbor. It took his largest front end loader to pick it up and take it to his property.

God cared about the tiny, minute facets of our lives, our baby, and our dogs. Of course, we know from the Bible that He numbers the hairs on our head and keeps track of sparrows. Does He care about all the things that go on in your life? I believe He does! Be encouraged!

If you want to share a story, comment, reflection with me, use the “Leave a Reply” box below!

And now, some feedback from you, my readers, on last week’s article.

– Loved your new Inside Out, but it makes me sad about your alcoholic friend. How true that we can’t “fix” our friends, only love them. But we so much want their quality of life to improve. More than that, we so much want them to be set free by our precious Lord! I understand why you didn’t separate the raccoon and his “juice”…. I’ll bet he slept real well that night!!

– Hey, I loved the story about the ’coon and the man. I’m glad that you have an opportunity to witness to him like that. I passed the link for Inside Out once again to friends and family. I’m sure they will get something from the story that touches their hearts.

– That was cute about the ’coon and very well-applied. Working in The Salvation Army has given me opportunities to work with people who have a problem with alcohol.

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