Imagine

Imagine a young man, a truly gorgeous blonde, tall, blue-eyed hunk of young man, in his freshman year of college. Imagine him just sort of floating along at college, just existing and getting by … until 9/11. Imagine this young man enlisting in the Army as a reaction to that dreadful, terrible day and then ending up fighting in Iraq several years later. Imagine this man surviving the horrors of war and ultimately getting out of the military only to find that he longer fit into society. Imagine him wandering aimlessly through a life of homelessness, loneliness, alcohol and drugs - not knowing what to do or even who he was – until one cold rainy winter evening he decided that it would be better if he were really dead because he already felt that way inside. Imagine him on his way home to get a gun when his headlights reflect from an unmoving pair of eyes in the grass on the side of the road. Imagine him stopping for some inexplicable reason to find that the eyes belong to a tiny shivering puppy – probably yellow under the wet mud that coats him – with only half a tail. Imagine that deciding to pick up that puppy and care for him gave the young man a reason to go on living. Imagine that the puppy grows until he is a gentle giant of a dog, a dog of intelligence and strength and boundless love for the young man. Imagine the young man and the dog, now inseparable, traveling all over the continent, working at all manner of jobs while both continue to heal and to grow. Imagine the young man returning home, returning to college, completing his degree, getting a good job and establishing a life, all with the dog constantly at his side.

Now imagine how the young man must have felt to return home from work one day very recently to find that someone had broken into his small home and although nothing had been taken, his companion, the big yellow dog, was gone. Imagine a woman stopping to get gas and finding a huge, muddy, yellow dog with bloody feet and only half a tail exhaustedly sprawled on the concrete driveway of the gas station. Imagine this woman somehow sensing that this dog – despite his great size and massive jaws – was a good dog and then enticing the dog into her car and taking him to her home. Imagine this woman taking the dog to the veterinarian, discovering that the dog was chipped and calling the phone number registered with the dog’s chip. Imagine how the gorgeously handsome young man felt to hear that someone had found the dog that had saved his life, someone who actually lived nearby. Imagine the young man telling the woman and her family the story of his life and of the dog's prominent place in it. Imagine all the tears and all the hugs (among the people) and all the barking and half-tail wagging (by the dog) when the man and the dog were reunited!

We don’t have to imagine it; that reunion happened in our driveway day before yesterday.

(The current theory is that whoever broke into the house was chased off – literally – by the dog and by the time he could no longer pursue them, he was too exhausted and too lost to get back home. He was picked up by Redheaded Spouse about 15 miles from his home. He’s back home today.)