Not long after our beloved 13-year-old Simba passed, I came across an adorable little dog wandering in our neighborhood.
He seemed oblivious to the danger of the street, so I scooped him up and brought him home to keep him safe while we looked for his owners.
He was small, with curly beige fur and a tiny clipped tail that fluttered like a hummingbird. He was such a happy, sweet-spirited little guy that we dubbed him “Buddy.”
While my husband Lex put up signs around the neighborhood, Buddy inspected our house, sniffing the traces of Simba and smiling with approval. He hopped onto the couch and rolled over so we could rub his belly. When we offered him kibble, he stood up on his hind legs and danced around like a circus performer.
Hours passed without a call from his owners, and we began to wonder if Buddy was meant to be ours. He was a bit dirty and matted, so we gave him a bath in our kitchen sink. Buddy reveled in the attention as we lathered him with soap
“I think God sent us a dog,” I said quietly. Lex replied, “I think you’re right.”
When the phone rang, we instantly knew. Lex grilled Buddy’s owners, but they seemed like decent, if slightly neglectful, owners. While they drove up the street to come get him, we said goodbye to our new friend Buddy.
We told Buddy if things ever got too tough at his house, he could always come live with us. We swore we’d scoop him up and keep him forever if we ever saw him in the street again. We never did.
There was only one thing that would heal our hearts. So we got Sammy, an adorable Golden Doodle puppy who assured us everything had turned out for the best.
And then one day, we received an unexpected phone call. “Remember that dog you found? We’re gonna take him to a shelter…unless you want him.”
Not only had Buddy’s owners remembered our brief meeting over a year before, they’d tracked us down even though we’d moved across town.
It seemed almost miraculous.
We were thrilled by the prospect of reuniting with the magical little dog, but there were practical things to consider. Could we take on the financial responsibility? How would our one year-old puppy feel about sharing the spotlight?<
But then we remembered the promise we’d made to Buddy that day so long ago: If things ever get too tough at your house, you can always come live with us. And so he did.
After researching how to integrate Buddy into the family, we put away Sammy’s toys and food, and introduced the two dogs on neutral turf. It turned out to be unnecessary – within moments, Sammy and Buddy were wrestling like old friends. One big, one little, with nearly identical curly beige fur, they looked liked a mismatched pair of Muppets.
When Sammy joyfully play-bowed to her new brother Buddy, we knew a miracle really had happened. God had sent us a dog – twice.