By Helena Smrcek @DiAnnMills
Guest blog post by Helena Smrcek @HelenaSmrcek
Meet My Dragons
Okay, they are not real dragons, but one look at my flowerbeds and anyone would understand why I would call them so. This all began with me telling my husband, some four years ago, that we needed a farm dog. The kind that lives in a doghouse, keeps watch over the chickens, and barks loud enough to scare off the unwanted wildlife. He would be the complete opposite to Daisy. She sleeps on the sofa, surrounded by pillows, moves only when food is at stake, and demands that the patio door opens the moment she decides that it’s nice enough weather to go outside. I truly didn’t care if he picked a German Shephard over a Border Collie, as long as our new addition kept the skunks away from the coop.
Several days later, with much enthusiasm, my dear husband announced that he found the dog he wanted. I should have clued in. He flashed his cellphone in front of my face, and what do I see? A skinny, short-haired, floppy-ear canine. “This dog can’t live outside in the winter,” was my first reasonable response. “It’d freeze.” Never mind the fact that a good-size raccoon would have him for lunch in no time.
“And don’t you think it’d be totally unfair for Daisy to sleep on the throw pillows, and our other dog freeze?”
My husband turned into a child counting down to Christmas. It took us several weeks, but our search ended successfully with a three-hour drive to meet a breeder—and our puppy. It was love at first sight—not on my part.
Thankfully the turbulent puppy days didn’t last forever. About a year later, Hunter started to calm down. A little. But as time progressed, he completely won me over. His gentle nature, unconditional love and unprecedented effort to be a good dog made me fall in love with him too. Daisy? Not so much.
When a call came a year-and-half later, followed by a text message that included a picture, I said no. “But she has no home,” was the argument. “Just look at her eyes. She is so beautiful.
As soon as we got into the breeder’s house, and Penny came to greet us, I knew it. We would not be leaving without her. Even Hunter liked her.
Daisy was angry. She pouted for six months. In her little doggy mind, we must have gone completely crazy. After we sent the pesky cat to live in the barn, we brought home a rambunctious puppy. He finally calmed down, and we drag in another dog – a female – who seemed to think that she was now the queen.
Penny was a different sort of work. It took much love and patience, but she slowly started to trust us. The experience was so rewarding that two years after her arrival and a discussion with our breeder, we decided to try for puppies.
Well, puppies we got. The vet said six, at first, then eight by the last week of Penny’s pregnancy. We ended up with nine little doggies. The moment a new life comes into the world, it’s always amazing. Multiply that by nine. The delivery took a better part of the day. Penny did great.
Our summer was spent blending dog food and goat milk, washing sheets, cleaning the floor, and running after adventurous pups that think tall grass is the best place to play. Did I mention my flowerpots and perennials? Puppies whine, cry, bite, scratch, demand attention, smell funny, chew everything in their reach, and destroy every plant in their way.
Let me just state for the record I still think puppies are cute, but also strongly believe by week nine they all need to move out of my house and start living on their own – in their new homes.
But when our first new Dog-Daddy came to visit, his little boy had told us about his PTSD, and how he was planning to train his pup as an emotional support dog, all the mischief was instantly forgotten.
Watching an army veteran bond with a little puppy, bringing him toys and worrying about leaving his shirt behind so his new buddy could find comfort, brought tears to my eyes.
And then I thought of God. How many times do we come kicking and screaming, fighting and arguing, not fully understanding the reasons He is asking us to do something? Talk to someone we don’t like very much? Volunteer for a task that completely brings us out of our comfort zone? Yet, once we submit, and let Him be the God He is, we often look back and see the greater reason for His request, and perhaps even realize that sometimes it’s not just all about us.
When was the last time you realized the blessings of following God?
Helen Smrcek
Thanks Helen for the reminder how God’s Blessings may not at first be evident.
Comments 15
Ahh, precious puppies! I remember picking our Blue Great Dane pup. Some might have regarded her as imperfect since many of her siblings had already been chosen. Her gray muzzle nuzzled into my son’s arm and she was his! Our Trixie is my gardening companion—stopping every once in a while to scratch her back on a shrub. She is twelve years eight months old now. I believe our Lord saved her just for our family. We have been blessed by her gentle spirit and love. After all, she believes she’s a lap dog—our Trixie Puffs.
Dear Terry, thank you for your comment. Yes, I too believe that animals, especially dogs, are sent to us by God. The pups have such amazing souls, and they adopt us as their own. There is no better companion that a loyal dog, well, aside from my husband of course…in case he gets to read this : )
Terry, so sweet. We all need lap dogs to keep us warm.
DiAnn, what a sweet story! Enjoyed hearing it so much. My husband bought a dog when we were engaged and we had a dog, sometimes two, sometimes a litter, for the next 50 years. They brought pain, agony, and eventually so much joy to us and our two sons. Blessing: I felt God asking me to write a novel about life as a widow–never realizing the blessings, healing, and new friends I would make along the way. PTL. Thank you for your blog. By the way, are your puppies golden retrievers?
Thanks, Virginia, those are Helena’s puppies, and I have no idea what breed. But they sure are cute!
Dear Virginia, thank you for your heart-felt comment. I think your novel idea sounds very interesting. Keep on following God’s voice. And the puppies? Hungarian Vizslas – almost extinct at the end of WWII – down to 14 dogs, as the Nazi’s disliked not only Hungarian nobility but also their dogs. So, they are very special to us (although we are not Hungarian, neither are we nobility). Blessings.
Thanks for sharing your Dragons with us. Beautiful story. And, yes, how nice that one of our wonderful veterans got one! God bless him.
Hi Vondia, I think I would have cried to see a veteran receive a puppy!
Hi Vondia, thank you for the reply. To be absolutely honest, meeting our retired military friend and seeing him with his new puppy – it was my favorite moment out of this entire experience. It all came together. I mentioned in one of my replies that Hungarian Vizslas were almost extinct as the Nazi’s went on a killing spree during WWII – exterminating Hungarian nobility – and their dogs. There were only 14 Vizslas left at the end of the war. The breed came back, resilient, beautiful and loyal, what a full-circle-experience, one of the descendants of the surviving dogs is a companion to a man who thought for our values, and suffered as a result of that. God works miracles.
My heart was captivated too. What sweet little doggies and what a happy story that a suffering veteran found companionship and hope for his damaged emotions with his new friend.
Hi Barbara, I love that aspect of Helena’s story. Animals can add healing to our lives.
Hi Barbara, thank you for the comment. Kindly read my reply to Vondia – don’t want to repeat myself, but honestly, it made it more than worth the effort and work these little ones were.
Wow!!!! Loved this. I have a puppy that can be a challenge at times, but I love him to pieces. And yes, God is soooooo good. He blesses me everyday.
Thanks, Kathryn! So sweet you have a puppy!
Hi Kathryn, thank you for your reply. Dogs are such a gift to us…and yes, they get in trouble…almost every day. Our papa dog went to visit our neighbour today. I had to drive up and fetch him. Not only he had fun sayin ‘Hi’ but also got a car ride out of that. Rascal. They are so worth all our efforts. They give us so much more. Their love has no bounds.