Missing Dog experience:
Recently my son’s dogs ran away. We live in the country where dogs often get the urge to travel to foreign lands on their own. Roger came back that night but Josh’s Ko-Hai did not show up. (Ko-Hai is Korean for "one in service to a Master.") Days of tramping through the woods calling Ko-Hai’s name ended with no dog.
The rule of thumb around here is that if you can’t find them by the end of the second day, then it’s up to the dog to find his way home. Many times, we never know what has happened to them. You kind of accept they are gone for good and at the same time keep one ear tuned for a familiar bark. An uneasy alliance of truth and hope.
Five years ago, my husband (David) lost a special dog. Every once in a while, he still thinks he has seen her running through the woods. It was hard for him to see our son going through the same experience. He could see that Josh would get all heavy when asked about Ko-Hai, so David left it that he wouldn’t ask any more but to be sure and let him know if Ko-Hai returned.
Well, two and half weeks later, Ko-Hai did return. Thin and raggily looking but at their door. Such a delight and upswing in energy as the weight of loss is transformed. Son and dog are happily together again.
You can’t always expect the logical thing to happen - you have to leave room for the unexpected. You can’t push and shove the improbable into place but you don’t have to close and lock all the doors and windows either.
Where in your life can you leave room for the improbable and unexpected miracle to happen?
Cheers,
Mary Ann Copson03152006
