A long time ago, we had Vizslas, beautiful golden sporting dogs from Hungary. I used to show my Dobermans at obedience trials and admired these gorgeous dogs who worked perfectly in the ring and then, climbed up into their owners lap for a snooze while awaiting their scores. When my first Dobie died of cancer just a few months before he was ready to show on the Utility level of obedience, my husband went out and bought me a Vizsla in an effort to console me. Unfortunately, he bought me a conformation Vizsla, not an obedience Vizsla. She was breathtakingly beautiful but had not one brain cell. We managed to get through the first level of obedience before I decided I was not going to fight with her any more. I switched to the show ring where she earned her championship and then, retired to be a mother. Her first litter was ten puppies, an amazing feat for a first time mother. What people don’t tell you when they are complimenting you on your dog’s beauty and saying you should breed her is that you don’t make any money on the puppies after you pay for the vet bills and dog food. And they don’t tell you that like children, puppies grow up, leave home and then, come back. At about nine months of age, owners started calling and wanting us to take their dogs back. They didn’t want their money back, just wanted us to take this no longer cute puppy who destroyed their house and needed a ton of exercise. We took the first two back and struggled to find them new homes. It was hard placing a dog that was essentially broken. With work and obedience training, they could be fixed, but it was time consuming. After that, we began referring people to the Vizsla rescue group, and we vowed never to breed a dog of any kind again. Now, my hobby is glass working and as I send my pieces out into the world, some of them are making their way back home again, broken. A friend’s dog jumped up and pulled her mobile onto the driveway and smashed it. The hanger came off a pendant. A lid of a glass box cracked. A picture was knocked off a table by a child. I fix the ones I can, make new if I have to and send them back. Its funny so many years later, I don’t resent these requests like I did when those puppies came parading back home. I think as I have aged, I have come to learn that all of us at some time or another are going to be broken. I know I have been. And God, in His mercy, bent down and bound up my wounds. So, if I can bring a little healing into this world, whether it is glass or a heart, then, I will. And when I can’t, I will refer them to the One who can.