ChrisH
09-01-2002, 10:08 AM
while reading this story that came in my e-mail today
My Purpose
He was left there to die, but lived long enough for me to fulfill my purpose.
He lay still in the road ahead of me, an all too common sight. It was around 1 am, and I was lost and in search of a room for the night, driving a 24-foot Ryder truck with little space to pull over.
But I had to do something.
Ahead of me, at least three cars slowed down, and drove around him. As I approached, with several cars close behind me, I slowed down and carefully maneuvered past him. I looked in my rear view mirror and noticed that the entire line of cars did the same. No one was stopping.
"This isn't right!" I said, and attempted a complete turn around across the highway. Memories of high school driving classes oddly flashed through my mind. But I didn't train to do this in a gigantic rental truck. It was the fanciest three-point turn I ever made. A few impatient drivers behind me honked their horns as I backed up.
"I see you!" I yelled in frustration.
As I headed back toward where he lay, my heart beating faster, I saw him pick up his head. He was alive. This old shaggy, unkempt German Shepherd, was alive and no one stopped to help. Not even the person who hit him.
One more wide and even faster turn around lead me back to the spot. This time, without hesitation, I pulled as far to the right as I could, turned on my blinkers and approached the dog.
Speaking softly to him, I slowly reached for his collar. Apparently he had been lying there for quite some time. The only visible blood on the ground near him was already dry. My heart racing now, I did the only thing I could do -- I pulled him slowly up onto the sidewalk. Stopping, he looked up at me, perhaps hoping to see a familiar face.
If you have been reading my stories for any length of time now, you know that I have not gotten over the loss of my Old English Sheepdog. Particularly since I had to have her put to sleep. Images of my own two puppies back home, being out on the road alone, in the early hours of the morning, lost, tired and very frustrated, I sat on the curb next to this poor animal and cried.
One woman stopped her car thinking it was my own dog. After a brief explanation, she in turn stopped a car with two young men in it. They agreed to call the local police.
Now, I wish I could tell you that this dog ended up at a local vet and we could all feel good about this. However, the fact is, the police would come and in an act of compassion, put the animal to sleep right there.
I could not stay to witness what was about to happen, but I would not leave him lying there alone. So I decided to stay there with the dog and wait. We had already blocked traffic on this four lane road. Even at 1:30am, it was quite heavy. So the others went on their way.
I sat there talking to him. As cars slowed down to get a look, I am sure a few hearts ached, a few thoughts of their own pets back home blended into the moment. Every once in awhile, the dog would look up at me.
If you are not a dog lover, you'll not understand or perhaps even believe this but in my mind I believe he was flashing back to happier times. He wasn't crying in pain. He wasn't struggling. I spoke to him with words of love and compassion. I was petting him, while warm tears dripped from my face and soaked into his near lifeless body. He was for now, content.
Suddenly our time together was interrupted by the distant flashing lights of the approaching police car.
"It'll be over soon old boy!" I said, with my heart pounding, my face wet, and a nervous quiver in my voice.
I introduced myself to the officer and explained that I could not stay here to watch what needed to be done.
He knelt down next to the dog and said, "Don't worry, you won't have to." The dog had passed away.
I drove for another hour and a half before finding an available room along Route 80. I had left Denver around 4:30 pm. It was now 3 am. This was my first day of travel on this great adventure. No glorious sunsets. No wonderful people. No angelic interventions.
But I believe in my heart that I was to make this side trip -- and to get lost along the way, so that I could stroke the dying body of this old abandoned dog. I had to go all the way from Pennsylvania to sit on a curb with a dog in Nebraska in the middle of the night because someone didn't care enough to stop.
And I thank God for the opportunity.
He was left there to die, but lived long enough for me to fulfill my purpose.
- Bob Perks
Bob Perks is a professional speaker and author. Sign up for his weekly messages, "I believe in you!" by visiting http://www.BobPerks.com or email him at [email protected].
My Purpose
He was left there to die, but lived long enough for me to fulfill my purpose.
He lay still in the road ahead of me, an all too common sight. It was around 1 am, and I was lost and in search of a room for the night, driving a 24-foot Ryder truck with little space to pull over.
But I had to do something.
Ahead of me, at least three cars slowed down, and drove around him. As I approached, with several cars close behind me, I slowed down and carefully maneuvered past him. I looked in my rear view mirror and noticed that the entire line of cars did the same. No one was stopping.
"This isn't right!" I said, and attempted a complete turn around across the highway. Memories of high school driving classes oddly flashed through my mind. But I didn't train to do this in a gigantic rental truck. It was the fanciest three-point turn I ever made. A few impatient drivers behind me honked their horns as I backed up.
"I see you!" I yelled in frustration.
As I headed back toward where he lay, my heart beating faster, I saw him pick up his head. He was alive. This old shaggy, unkempt German Shepherd, was alive and no one stopped to help. Not even the person who hit him.
One more wide and even faster turn around lead me back to the spot. This time, without hesitation, I pulled as far to the right as I could, turned on my blinkers and approached the dog.
Speaking softly to him, I slowly reached for his collar. Apparently he had been lying there for quite some time. The only visible blood on the ground near him was already dry. My heart racing now, I did the only thing I could do -- I pulled him slowly up onto the sidewalk. Stopping, he looked up at me, perhaps hoping to see a familiar face.
If you have been reading my stories for any length of time now, you know that I have not gotten over the loss of my Old English Sheepdog. Particularly since I had to have her put to sleep. Images of my own two puppies back home, being out on the road alone, in the early hours of the morning, lost, tired and very frustrated, I sat on the curb next to this poor animal and cried.
One woman stopped her car thinking it was my own dog. After a brief explanation, she in turn stopped a car with two young men in it. They agreed to call the local police.
Now, I wish I could tell you that this dog ended up at a local vet and we could all feel good about this. However, the fact is, the police would come and in an act of compassion, put the animal to sleep right there.
I could not stay to witness what was about to happen, but I would not leave him lying there alone. So I decided to stay there with the dog and wait. We had already blocked traffic on this four lane road. Even at 1:30am, it was quite heavy. So the others went on their way.
I sat there talking to him. As cars slowed down to get a look, I am sure a few hearts ached, a few thoughts of their own pets back home blended into the moment. Every once in awhile, the dog would look up at me.
If you are not a dog lover, you'll not understand or perhaps even believe this but in my mind I believe he was flashing back to happier times. He wasn't crying in pain. He wasn't struggling. I spoke to him with words of love and compassion. I was petting him, while warm tears dripped from my face and soaked into his near lifeless body. He was for now, content.
Suddenly our time together was interrupted by the distant flashing lights of the approaching police car.
"It'll be over soon old boy!" I said, with my heart pounding, my face wet, and a nervous quiver in my voice.
I introduced myself to the officer and explained that I could not stay here to watch what needed to be done.
He knelt down next to the dog and said, "Don't worry, you won't have to." The dog had passed away.
I drove for another hour and a half before finding an available room along Route 80. I had left Denver around 4:30 pm. It was now 3 am. This was my first day of travel on this great adventure. No glorious sunsets. No wonderful people. No angelic interventions.
But I believe in my heart that I was to make this side trip -- and to get lost along the way, so that I could stroke the dying body of this old abandoned dog. I had to go all the way from Pennsylvania to sit on a curb with a dog in Nebraska in the middle of the night because someone didn't care enough to stop.
And I thank God for the opportunity.
He was left there to die, but lived long enough for me to fulfill my purpose.
- Bob Perks
Bob Perks is a professional speaker and author. Sign up for his weekly messages, "I believe in you!" by visiting http://www.BobPerks.com or email him at [email protected].