No coincidences.

This morning I was out for my bi-monthly beard care appointment with Dennis at The Petite Salon. He mentioned that a friend of his was looking for a Santa. I gave him some of my cards and then decided to head over to Claddagh Coffee and talk to Mary about a Santa visit in person.

We chatted a few minutes, I gave her a card and she promised to let me know. I asked what was planned and she said that it was kind of an Irish Christmas celebration. I managed not to jump up and down but did have the presence of mind to tell her, “I know a Santa, who’s standing right here, who has an Irish green Santa suit.”

The effect was perfect. Nobody has a green Santa suit. Not true. I have two. Early on in my career I was asked if I could be an Irish Santa. I had two suits made and never wore them because I never got the request again.

Well, that may or may not sway the purchase decision but it was nice to be able to offer the suit as an option.

I headed for the door and noticed a Sheltie standing there looking at me from under a table. My heart kind of fluttered. You see it has only been a week ago this moment (as I’m typing) that Maisie left us. I stopped and talked to the owner. Yes, Sheltie, not a small Collie.

The girl’s name was Madeline. And she was as sweet and gentle as Maisie. A big girl, around 35 pounds, she has a beautiful black coat and gentle, clear eyes. I sat and talked with her “mom” for quite a while about faith, Santa, dogs, loss, and having her picture taken with Santa (mom, not Madeline.)

I left the coffee shop renewed. I had a Sheltie moment for the day and it was wonderful. I was able to see the promise of a young dog and all the joy she’ll bring to her family over the next dozen years or so. And I was able to remember the really excellent times with Maisie in a different frame as a result.

I’m home now. One week has gone by exactly since I left the vet’s office much poorer than I went in the door. But life is moving forward. Edzell is snoozing next to the couch. There wasn’t a mess when I got home. Maybe he’s healed a bit in the last week and isn’t as much angry as lonely. I hope to remedy that loneliness very soon.

Perhaps best of all, the carpenter called just after I walked in and saw Ed. He’s coming over Monday to build the ramp so my old friend can make it up the stairs just a little easier. I’m glad to do that for him. He’s a great dog with a good heart. I need to make his life smooth as silk when I can.

Is there an “old dog” in your life who needs a little help? Perhaps an old friend who you haven’t talked to in a while? Or maybe a stranger in a coffee shop with whom you can talk about the love of Christ while rubbing a young dog’s head. Take that time today and do something nice, something new, something out of love for a dog or a stranger. I promise it will brighten your day.

My boy, Ed.

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No coincidences. — 1 Comment

  1. The old dog barks backward without getting up
    I can remember when he was a pup.

    (Robert Frost — “The Span of Life”, 1936)