GUIDE DOG TALES VOL> !@

GUIDE DOG TALES VOL. 12

By Carolyn Dale Newell

 

Iva and I have been busy bees this spring. This is stepping out of chronological order, but with Easter on Sunday, you’ll see the point.

We were walking our regular route Saturday evening, when an aggressive jack Russell terrier came after us. As I screamed over the dog’s barks, I could not tell if he was out of his yard or biting Iva. The owner called him off. I knelt by Iva expecting to feel blood on her silky black coat. No blood! I turned toward home, and my ear caught the familiar sound of another dog owner calling his loose dog. Two leash law breakers in one place. I called the cops.

The boys in blue did not have a clue as to the seriousness of this incident. They obviously did not know that in most states, including Virginia, an offense toward a guide dog is greater than an attack on a pet. It is a class three misdemeanor if you (or your dog) intentionally interfere with a working guide dog team. That is only for interference. An attack is more serious. Guide dogs have stopped working in circumstances like these. I explained this to the cops, but it didn’t register. Guess not, when they asked a blind woman if the house had a green roof. Did I mention Jack’s owner was a repeat offender? Many folks have been bitten by her dogs.

Sunday, I walked my route in reverse to put us on the opposite of Mr. Russell’s yard. I had never traveled the sidewalks from this direction, and I wasn’t aware of the section of sidewalk protruding up. Not only did I trip, but I fell. Iva tried to help with kisses. I got up to continue when I felt blood on my knee. I called Timmy to pick us up.

He bandaged up my wound as tears could no longer restrain themselves. Defeated, I asked God where was He in all of this? Almost like words, the response, “I was between Iva and the dog.” Yes, You were! There’s a momma with her baby in the hospital. There’s a lady fighting cancer. Why should I be the exception? Shamed swept over me as I dressed for church.

“The grave no longer has a hold on You.” The lyrics repeated. No, and neither does Satan. He wants me discouraged and frightened to walk.

My mind went to Mary as she watched Jesus suffer in all His blood, raw flesh ripped and torn, barely recognizable. Why did she have to go through that? Sin, not Jesus’ sin, but ours. This world is sin filled. Therefore, we have cancer, sick babies, dog attacks, and an enemy always fighting us.

Christians have something no false religion has, an empty tomb. Jesus lives! And because He lives, we have victory. Victory over sin. Victory over death. Victory over the wiles of the devil. We feel we have lost the battle, but if you read the end of the Book, we win!

Morning always dawns after the darkest night. It took courage and faith to walk to a restaurant, Monday. It was just what the Great Physician ordered for Iva and me. A new place with never before navigated routes. We met a sweet, helpful waitress. The weekend’s troubles faded as I thanked God for His mercies. Like the sun, His mercies are new every morning (Lam. 3:23). Hang on, friend! Morning is coming!

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