Less than a week ago, my dog Sheena was suffering from a mysterious ailment that left her walking sideways, disoriented, unable to eat on her own. I sat with her as she breathed heavily, looking at me with confused eyes. “What’s happening to me, Ma?” she seemed to ask. I carried her outside when she had to go to the bathroom, holding my nose as I held up her back end. I fed her ice chips when she reached a point where she wasn’t eating, and sat with her one day, trying not to let her see me cry. The vet had just called and said there was nothing else we could do. “We may have to make some hard choices soon.”
Praying till my fingers were blue, I aimed high. Miracle, please. I know Sheena’s fourteen, with arthritis, cataracts, and a tumor on her running leg. I’m not gonna lie and say I won’t ask for another miracle. Come this time next week, I’m sure I’ll be knockin on Heaven’s door again. Just let us have this girl for awhile longer.
As the days wore on, she started to regain her balance, a very little bit at a time. She didn’t fall as often, and then two days ago, started to eat out of her bowl again. Yesterday, she finally climbed back up onto the couch all by herself. Sitting at my feet right now as I work, she’s actually sleep-running again.
I’ve said before and it still holds true, people. Miracles accrue, one prayer at a time. And God is good, all the time!
PS Tomorrow’s post will explain her unusual name!