It seems like years, not weeks since we were sitting peacefully by the Rainbow River with nothing better to do than throw the toy for the dog to retrieve and watch the water drift by. Returning home was like walking along a wooded path, relaxed and happy on a Fall day that is just warm enough to be cozy and just cool enough to be invigorating before running smack dab into an invisible spider web. Suddenly, you are caught up in its sticky strings, clawing at yourself convinced that the spider is crawling in your hair. Yeah, that’s what coming back from vacation was like for us.
One of my best friend’s grandsons died this week. Twenty-two years old, he disappeared last weekend. Five days later, they found his body in a retention pond in a neighboring county. No one knows for sure what happened, but his mother, grandmother and many friends and family are heartbroken. Again, all I have to offer are a listening ear, food and prayer.
Cory got it first, probably having picked it up at dog school. The vaccine for kennel cough which all our dogs have had is for the common strains. My uncommon dog found an uncommon strain and got so sick so fast that I rushed her to the Vet Emergency Clinic last Friday night. After spending a week’s pay on x-rays and blood work, the vet scratched her head and took a stab in the dark prescribing medicine for kennel cough. It is highly contagious and despite our best efforts to keep her isolated, one by one, the other dogs have succumbed including Summer who is staying with us temporarily. Twice a day, I ram pills down their mucus filled throats and all night long we listen to hacking. It sounds like we are in a nursery full of croupy babies.
That’s what I am doing. Waiting. Praying. Comforting whenever and however I can. And expecting God to work. That’s faith in the real world.