Cooper The Creek Dog
“Under His wings you will find refuge.”
— Psalm 9:1
I think the important thing about pain, is that I’m not really sure how long it takes to stop hurting. Maybe I am just not good at healing. I bandage. But I have always been able to move on and forward through pain, And equally good at letting people know that there is no magic amount of time for it to go away. You just have to be careful who you cut with your sharpened edges.
Sunday I took some models down to the creek to practice some photography shots. I was prepared for the day. I had my notes, my wardrobe, and my lenses, everything I thought I needed.
I apparently packed my giant over-sized stupid unhealed heart as well.
I’ve had to re-home dogs because of life circumstances. I’ve had pets come and go. I know that in reality most of us have. It is such a big part of life. The kids and I have always taken in animals that needed homes as well. Maybe even when we shouldn’t have. But there again, lies the heart.
While setting up this pose, a fella and his son stopped by in their SUV and attempted to talk me into taking a stray dog who had been dumped at an abandoned property. They had been feeding and caring for her for two days.
How could I leave her there? The girls begged me to take her. The girls begged me to go back.
But I didn’t.
I left her there because the pain of losing Cole was so devastating that it has taken weeks for me to get through my day without shedding a tear. A hard, hot, heartfelt tear for a rescue dog.
Cole changed my life. He changed my life forever. My husband still walks by his box of ashes every single day and says, “Good boy, Coley”. I’m typing through hot tears now. Can you picture a grown man doing that?
After a few hours, I felt bad. When our 19 year old got home, I sent him back down to the creek. The least I could do is take her in and find her owners. I mean, surely someone didn’t just dump her out there. He came back empty handed.
An hour later he went back, but this time, she hopped right in the car with him. Maybe she figured this was her last chance. My husband had told the girls we couldn’t keep her. Yet hours later, there he sat with a 50 lb. dog in his lap, in our kitchen floor, picking ticks off of her. By Monday, she had a vet appointment and a rabies shot. And I spent 35 minutes bawling my eyes out in the shower asking God, why? Why now? Because my heart is just so exhausted and broken. It’s too soon and I am not ready. But He knows why and He knows His timing.
Now she has a collar. And now she has a name.
We have a dog named Cooper.
No one claimed her. She doesn’t have a microchip. And my children all believe she was sent by God to deliver us from the excruciating pain of losing Cole. My daughter said, “Mom, it’s like when something gets taken away, God replaces it with something better.” she caught the wince that shuddered through me, but I understand what she means. How can I argue with her opinion of our all-mighty, all-knowing, all-loving Father?
Maybe, Miss Cooper will help us heal. At the very least, help the children heal. So, here she is. She seems to constantly stare into my face begging for my love, and I am working on giving it to her.