the joy of
forgiveness
Meant to be
Mine A dog named Savior
by MARIO CHIOZZA , Memphis, Tennessee
46
guideposts
the passenger side door and got the dog’s attention. She stopped, and I reached for her. It’s okay, pup, I got you. I looped the catch around her neck, scared she would bolt. She looked at me, and as if making a decision, struggled into the car. No way was I making it to work. I pulled onto the shoulder to call in. “Something’s come up,” I said. I could see the dog was suffering, her breathing labored. God, why would you put this innocent creature in front of me now?
KAREN PULFER FOCHT
I
climbed into my car, every part of me exhausted. The only thing I wanted was to go back to bed that early December morning, but work was waiting for me. I turned the key in the ignition. Lord, I asked, give me the strength to make it through one more day. The last few months had been the worst of my life. My third marriage had failed, and I was packing up to move with my dogs to a smaller place. Picking up every shift I could get at my job, I was just starting to get back to a stable place. Financially stable, anyway. After my previous divorces, I’d spent a lot of time thinking and praying about what I could do differently. Now I wondered if I’d learned anything at all. I pulled onto the highway and merged into rush hour traffic. A white pickup cut in front of me—grrr—and I watched the guy in the truck bed toss something over the side. I sucked in my breath. It wasn’t trash—it was a dog! She hit the ground with her front legs, then her back legs, almost in stride, and lurched forward, trying desperately to keep up with the truck. It sped off, and cars zoomed around her. It was a miracle that the fall alone hadn’t killed her. I had been a rescue volunteer with the Humane Society for years, and I kept my catch pole in my car. Driving close, I opened
I headed to the vet’s office. “We need help!” I shouted, bursting in. The staff took one look at the animal in my arms and went into action. The wait was agonizing. Finally the vet came out. “She’s got a long haul ahead,” he said, “but with surgery, I think she’ll make it. When she’s able to go home, you’ll have to watch her. Closely.” Wait, what? “Oh, she’s not mine, Doc. I just brought her in.” “My mistake,” he said. “We’ll give the
shelter a call and work it out.” A dog like this would need a lot of tender care to have any hope of trusting humans again. Without it, she would be unadoptable and most likely euthanized. “No need. I can foster her for a time,” I said, wondering where I got the idea I could take on the responsibility and expense. I had my own dogs to look after. Wasn’t my life complicated enough? Even after a lengthy stay at the vet, the dog was nowhere near fully recovered. Finally the vet okayed her release, but she would need continuing treatment. I drove over after work to get her. “So you’re the one who rescued Savior!” the receptionist said when I arrived. “That’s what we’ve been calling her, because she’s such a sweetheart despite what she’s been through. She gave us all something to think about, especially during the Christmas season. Let’s go get her.” When Savior laid eyes on me, she wagged her tail hard and fast. I swear she even smiled. In an instant I felt restored. More so, I felt real hope that I could live a better life. I just had to keep trying. Savior would remind me of that every day. She befriended everyone she came across. With an outpouring of love and support from the vet’s office and the community, I could cover her medical bills. Driving back and forth for her treatments, I watched and learned what it was to be patient and forgiving and never to give up. Savior was meant to be mine. God had used me, despite my shortcomings, for something good, and that gave me a path forward. He didn’t make mistakes and would help me make less of them. ✴
MIRACLE MUTT
Mario set up the
Savior Foundation to help abused and distressed dogs get the medical help they need.
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