Her Name Was Dora - A Eulogy

Her name was Dora.

She first joined our household in October, 2004. The organization through which I'd adopted Grace just a few months before,  Because You Care had contacted me asking if I would be willing to foster a dog. She'd been found wandering the streets of Northern Millcreek Township and was only captured after she was too hungry to care. She was coaxed to come in with lunch meat.

She was so scared the volunteers called her Sissy.  When Sissy was brought to my home she was literally dragged in, wrestling and fighting the entire time. But she didn't bite or snap. She didn't want to hurt anyone, she just didn't want to be hurt herself.

I thought it was mean to call her Sissy, highlighting her fear so I renamed her. Initially I called her Cora, for courageous. But after a week I remembered I had a friend who had a daughter named Cora and I didn't think she'd appreciate me naming my dog the same so I tasked with changing her name once again. Because she'd already started to respond to "Cora" I looked for a name that sounded similar. Perhaps Nora? That didn't fit. Maybe Flora? Ick-NO. I tried Dora and she responded so the name stuck. People assume she was named for Dora the Explorer, but that wasn't the case.

Once in my house she backed away from Grace and me and barked. Eventually, when people came to visit she wouldn't run away, but stand behind me - possibly for protection...and bark. Finally, feeling a bit more comfortable in her surroundings she would stand in front of me - possibly to protect me(?)...and bark.

Dora barked at the mailman. She barked at the UPS driver. She barked at the neighbors when they sat on their porches. She barked at repairmen - at my home and the neighbors.  She barked at all the people who walked up and down my street, and I live on a street popular with walkers. When giving directions to my house I told people to not bother looking for the house number just listen for the house with the barking dogs. They always found the right house.

I have no idea of what she was trying to communicate. Sometimes to alert me. Sometimes because she was happy. But I think it was most often because she was afraid and anxious. I had her a few years before I could look in her eyes and see she trusted me. Years! I was only supposed to foster her, but I knew that in spite of her progress, relocating Dora would ruin her so I kept her. (Come to think of it, I don't think Because You Care ever charged me the adoption fee!)

Dora wasn't a particularly playful dog. She didn't chase a ball or catch a Frisbee. But she loved to run! Once I felt confident she wouldn't run away from me, I took her over to the GE softball fields and let her off leash.  She would run like a shot! Maybe she was part greyhound or maybe gazelle. She was beautiful to watch, the sun bouncing off her sleek black coat looked as if sparks were flying as she sped across the field. And she was happy! True joy shone from her face, her eyes, as she outran all the fear and that surrounded her.

Another activity she enjoyed was sliding down the slide at Napier Park. Many years ago, Olivia (Barbling #3) coaxed her up the slide steps and I stayed at the bottom to catch her. Dora loved it and kept running back to the steps to try it again.  Finally, on one trip down her claw got caught and she hurt her paw. She didn't enjoy the slide as much anymore, though every couple of years I could convince her to take a trip.

Finally, the years caught up to her, as they do all of us.  Her eyes clouded over, she slowed down quite a bit, and her anxiety was keeping her (and me) up many nights. At times her breathing was labored and I suspect she was concealing pain. I decided her time had come and the loving thing would be to put her down, so I made the vet appointment for Saturday, July 27.

On Friday night Dora, Lucy and I made a final walk to Dairy Queen, where they each got a Pet Cup - a cup of vanilla ice cream with a dog biscuit garnish. Normally, the three of us split a small cone, but the occasion warranted their own servings.

Saturday morning, before we left for the vet, Dora and I walked over to the softball fields, where I left her off leash. She didn't run, but she did walk at a faster clip than normal. We then stopped at Napier Park where she walked up to the slide and sniffed it, perhaps bringing back good memories. And then we left for the vet's. My friend, Brenda came with me so I didn't have to face this alone.

In just two days' time I already notice less dog hair around. And the house is quiet. Too quiet! Reflecting on our 15 years together I wondered if maybe I should have kept the name Cora.
Though she'd never conquered her fears Dora had lived a good life in spite of them. Isn't that the true meaning of courage?

Fifteen years and it only occurred to me today to look up the meaning of "Dora"! The name is from the Greek, meaning "gift". Dora is the diminutive of Theodora (or Dorothy) meaning "God's gift". In one of those spiritual ironies, "God's gift" came to live with me just a few months after I'd adopted "Sasha", who I had renamed "Grace". Grace and Dora were meant to be together. And they're together now, with the One who let me have them for a time.

Her name was most appropriately Dora.

Year of Jubilee

November 28, 2017 marks my sixth anniversary at my current job. My employer treats me well and I enjoy the work I do. I look forward to working there for many years to come, as long as they'll have me.

 I have a 47 mile, 50-minute commute each way, which I've found amazingly pleasant. By the time I get to work I'm wide awake and by the time I get home, any stresses are miles behind me. I use my commute time for prayer and I listen to music, audio books, and podcasts. I used to regularly listen to talk radio, too; until the 2016 Election Cycle, that is!

My route is primarily on interstate highways and the roads are generally clear, harsh winter weather notwithstanding. My daily journey is scenic, taking me over Chautauqua Lake,  and most days I drive towards the sunrise and sunset.

But...each year there has been an "incident" that gave me cause to be alert, intensified my prayers, and made me humble. On this work anniversary, I take this time to recall these "events".

Year One - The fuel gauge on my car was malfunctioning so I had to keep close watch on the odometer to judge when  I needed to fill my tank.  One morning I had time to either gas up or grab a doughnut.  I looked at the mileage reading and figured I had enough fuel to get to work but would need to refuel on the ride home.  I bought the doughnut (Mighty Fine Angel Cream, if you were wondering). Two blocks from work my car died.  This was one of those humiliating  humbling experiences I'd mentioned.

Year Two - As I mentioned, the roads are generally clear. My issues are very rarely with winter road conditions. Visibility is another story!  One February evening, I hadn't been paying attention to the weather and even worked over, so I got a late start home and not a minute of my ride was in daylight. Not that it would have helped, since it was blizzard conditions.  My normal 50-minute commute took 150 minutes. A portion of the interstate was closed and the detour took me to an unfamiliar country road. It was a downhill route and I felt I was driving in to a dark tube with no end.  Slippery roads and white outs had me moving at 5 mph for much of the drive which caused snow and ice to build up on my windshield wipers, rendering them useless.  At one point I became keenly aware of my isolation, no lights in front of me, no lights behind me.  I pulled over under an overpass and called my brother who was about 35 miles away. He kindly listened to me but gently told me "Barb, I can't come get you".  "I know! I just needed to hear another voice!" I cried.  I hung up, put the car in gear, and slowly pulled out to continue my journey home.  About 6 miles from home, I was able to get off the highway and get on familiar roads. However, I wound up stopped in traffic on a hill.  I had come to a complete stop (really) when I felt my car start to slide.  I desperately pumped the brakes but didn't stop until I bumped in to the WalMart semi in front of me, cracking my bumper cover.  A bright spot to all this was that my boss texted me to make sure I'd gotten home safely.  I told you, they treat me well there!

Year Three - Do you remember that WKRP in Cincinnati episode "With God as my witness, I thought turkeys could fly."?  Well, turkeys CAN fly.  Not very high, but they can fly.  They can fly about the height of the windshield of a Ford Escape.  The turkey hit my driver side windshield, shattering it.  I want it on record that the turkey hit ME, I did not hit it. He misjudged his takeoff and flew in to me as I was driving my.  I was about 40 miles from home and (stupidly, I admit) tried to drive the rest of the way by leaning over to look out the passenger side windshield to navigate my way home.  That lasted about a mile before I realized the futility, pulled over and called some friends who lived not too far.  They came to my rescue, waited while the tow truck carted away my vehicle, fed me dinner, and loaned me a car to get home.  It's not just my employer who treats me well.

Year Four - I travel 47 miles to work each day.  My boss travels about 30 miles, much of it the same route I take.  On my way to work one day I noticed a State Police vehicle, lights flashing, had pulled over a vehicle that looked a lot like my boss's car.  I laughed and thought of ways I'd tease him when I got to work.  As I passed the vehicles I also noticed a couple of dead deer and felt sorry for the poor driver.  And the poor deer.  As I walked to my office I looked in to my boss's office and saw he was not there yet.  He could have been in a meeting, he could have had the day off. I figured I'd razz him later.  About 8:30 I heard him talking to someone outside my office.  "No, the air bag didn't deploy" I heard him say.  Air bag!!! I hurried to the hall and said "Was that you????" "Yeah, I saw you drive by."  Yes, folks I drove by my boss as he was stranded on the side of the road after hitting deer.  And it wasn't a couple of deer, but THREE deer he'd hit. I have job security just so he can hold this event over my head until the day I retire.

Year Five - Road crews still kept the highways clear, but there was still nothing to be done about that darned visibility.  On my way to work my wipers once again iced over and I couldn't see.  I needed to pull over to clear them but to do so on the interstate was too dangerous so I decided to pull off at the next exit to find a safe place.  Only I couldn't see the exit.  I traveled to the next exit, and missed that one, too.  The third exit was the charm. The blowing snow calmed down just long enough for me to see the exit and I was able to get off the highway.  The road was still busy, though so I pulled over as far as I could to a place where I could safely exit the car and clean off the wipers.  I pulled over too far, got caught in a couple of ruts that pulled me right in to a large, deep ditch.  How deep?  The snow came up to the hood of my SUV.  From my vehicle I called AAA and ninety minutes later they showed up to tow me out.  I texted work to tell them I would not be in.  In six years I've only missed two days due to snow, though I probably should have missed a few more.

Year Six - I hit a deer. I cried. I didn't cry for the turkey.  HE had it coming.  But the poor deer...

And so I'm entering Year Seven.  In Leviticus it describes the Year of Jubilee, seven cycles of seven Sabbaths.  I don't know where in the cycle we are officially but I'm hoping that this next year is the right seventh year and I get a year off.  My insurance company and the wildlife of Chautauqua County are hoping this, as well.

Coincidence? I Think Not.

The more of life I experience, the less I believe in coincidence and the more I see the hand of the Almighty God at work. Some refer to these works as God-incidences.Though I appreciate the play on words, I think this grossly undervalues the intimate involvement God the Father has with His creation at all times and in all ways. A better term would be Divine Intervention.

Last evening as temperatures soared I set about baking bread for Sunday's church communion. In my un-air-conditioned home.

I was hot. I was sticky, And as has been much the case since January, I found myself missing my dear friend and running companion who'd moved to Illinois seven months ago. As I went to remove the freshly baked bread from the oven I reached for my oven mitts when I remembered the beautiful teal-colored mitts I'd received from her family for my birthday.  I've kept them out for show, but I had the idea of using them then and sending her a picture of the moment.  And so began the following text exchange:

This afternoon, I received this text from Illinois:

Some might say this was merely coincidence; that the song "Blessed Be the Tie That Binds" is a common song and there is nothing unusual about it being sung on a Sunday morning. Some might even go so far as to say God has a lot more important things to do than pick a hymn.  I respectfully say - you're wrong! :p (Well, maybe that emoticon wasn't all that respectful).

God, Almighty, Infinite, Eternal, Omniscient, Omnipresent, created the heavens and the earth and all that dwells there, down to the tiniest detail. He came down from heaven in the person of Jesus to conquer sin and death so we might live with Him forever. God didn't knock over s cosmic domino a few thousand years ago to let things fall where they may. He takes an active interest and care in the daily lives of His creation.  

If you're not sure about this, listen to what Jesus had to say about it:

"Are not two sparrows sold for a penny? And not one of them will fall to the ground apart from your Father. But even the hairs of your head are all numbered. Fear not, therefore; you are of more value than many sparrows." (Matthew 10:29-31)

Yesterday, I was prompted by the Spirit to grab the pretty, teal oven mitts and text a picture to my friend.  A few days ago, or even a week ago a pastor or worship leader in Illinois was prompted by the Spirit to include "Blessed Be the Tie That Binds" in their service today. Through these independent acts two friends were reminded their Father in heaven has their back. And God was given the glory for the blessing He gave us.

There are countless blessings we experience each day totally unaware and so we miss out on the comfort that comes from knowing there is someone bigger, smarter, stronger than us who is taking care of things so we don't have to. If we pay attention - with our eyes, our ears, and our souls - He will  show us the many wonders He has done and is doing. He will reveal the many moments of His Divine Intervention.

"God is always doing 10,000 things in your life, and you may be aware of three of them."

                                                                                                                                 -John Piper

"But blessed are your eyes, for they see, and your ears, for they hear. For truly, I say to you, many prophets and righteous people have longed to see what you see, and did not see it, and to hear what you hear, and did not hear it." (Matthew 13:16-17)