If you have not read Part One of this series, you might want to. If not, here's the recap. You know how I like my recaps.
1.) Tim and I are tossing around the idea of building a house on his family's farmland
2.) I read a book about making your life full of Great Stories that sort of changed my life
3.) I came to believe that neglected dogs are a microcosm that represents everything that is wrong and evil in the world.
After I cried in Petsmart, I started thinking about The Devil. That's right. The Devil. I started thinking about how crummy it is that he sets out everyday to ruin the things that God has created (i.e. dogs who love their freedom). Then all these great Bible Marbles started rolling around in my head (Bible marbles?). I remembered that basically, The Bible says if we accept grace and love and God's hand in our lives, then we will find lots of peace and comfort and joy. With God on our side, nothing is ever truly ruined.
God can take Satan's sucker punch and turn it into a pat on the back.
I hummed one of my favorite J.J. Heller lines,
"I know you hate to see me cry, but one day you will make all things right."
So I said to myself, "Self, maybe the fact that someone cared enough to take these dogs in and help them is evidence that there is still a lot right going on in the world. Maybe it is all about our perspective."
And then I felt better.
So, with that being said...
My parents' best friends used to live in a an old farmhouse, old barn included. The husband runs a business (quite successfully) that specializes in computers. They remodeled part of their barn so that he could have his own office. Although they've moved since then, I remember a desk and a television and lots of chairs and couches. It became a barn/office/makeshift playroom.
And the wheels started turning.
How amazing would it be to build our house and build a 'barn' with tile and 'kennels' and couches and dog beds and air conditioning and lots and lots of windows?
My dream, MY DREAM is to walk into Petsmart on adopt-a-dog-day, take one look at the cages full of 'old' dogs, wave my hand like a fairy dog-mother and boldly declare,
"Clear em' out!"
Then, we would all pile into our old SUV and go home.
We would go home.
Instead of spending our August Saturdays staring at each other through black metal cages, we would lay on the cool tile in the office/playroom/dog barn, eating ice cubes and watching re runs of property ladder.
We would use all The Land as a make-shift dog park. Children with disabilities or tiny backyards or parents with allergies...children who simply can't have dogs could come and play. "The Park" would also be open to anyone who was generally having a bad day. I find that dogs tend to help with bad day-ishness. I trust that somewhere, it's been scientifically proven.
Every dog would get bowls of turkey on Thanksgiving and treat bags at Christmas.
We would also use The Land to have parties for underprivileged children or kids who have finally beat cancer or grandparents who have just turned 100 at no cost to those in need. There would be a slip and slide or snowman building (depending on the weather) along with pretty table cloths and lots of balloons.
I would write. I would write articles and books and stories and anything I could get down on paper. We would give the dogs names like Ruby and Dodger and Bandit, and people would come to know them because of all the writing. They would send them cards and ask for photos and come to celebrate their birthdays. Their story would be come our story and vice versa, and life would be good.
We would be home.
Love and everything else,
photo source, unknown-please comment if you find it