This dog.  I’m tellin’ ya folks, she’s full of wisdom.  I know you’re tired of reading about my puppy.  Frankly, I’m tired of writing about her.  But she just . . . . knows things.

I need to begin by telling you we almost lost Macie this month.  No, we weren’t out buying poster board and preparing to staple signs to telephone poles.  When I say ‘lost,’ I mean the dog almost died.  It’s a very long story, but it started with a lazier than usual pup that turned into a vomiting pup that turned into a pup who couldn’t even stand up.  The vet still doesn’t know what happened, but Macie’s liver was failing, and for a full week, we weren’t sure she was going to make it.  There was even talk of a blood transfusion at one point.  This was serious.

Now, before you start wondering just exactly what I’ve been praying about in regards to our puppy for the last eight months, I must reassure you that I did NOT want Macie to die.  Yes, there have been quite a few moments since we brought her home when I would have been perfectly happy to spend an afternoon stapling lost dog signs to telephone poles.  Still, I had no desire for the nemesis of my sanity to stop breathing at ten months of age.  It was a very scary week.  Surprisingly, however, although Macie could barely lift her head and orange liquids flowed from body parts that should never release liquids, I’ll be darned if that sick little critter didn’t teach me a lesson anyway.

If you didn’t know this already, there’s a reason people use the phrase “puppy dog eyes” and it ignites instant understanding.  Dogs don’t appear sick when they’re deathly ill.  They aren’t strangely thin or extremely pale.  But their eyes . . . oh my.  They become windows to the dog’s soul, and I realize that sounds absolutely insane, but people, it’s the honest to goodness truth.  Just thinking about the way Macie looked at me as the orange liquids flowed makes me wince.  Her eyes told me everything I needed to know about the way our puppy felt.  She was desperate. 

I wonder how many people would be saved if human eyes could convey such an acute need for someone, anyone, to reach out and help. 

I wonder how many times I’ve failed to notice that someone right beside me was in pain.  How often have I spent too little time with someone who was lonely?  How many times did I participate only half-heartedly in a conversation with someone who was hurting so badly, she didn’t know where to go, or who to turn to, or how to ask?

Human eyes can look sad.  They can look sick.  But I’ve never seen a human’s eyes look like Macie’s did the week she almost died. 

I suppose God created puppy dog eyes because dogs don’t have the capacity to communicate with speech.  They can’t tell us their stomach hurts worse than ever before or someone they love has broken their heart into a million pieces or their most important dream didn’t come true. (Wouldn’t you like to know what that dream would be, by the way?  It’s rainin’ bones, hallelujah, it’s rainin’ bones!)  Sorry. We’ll dive into dog dreams another day – it’s simply too good to dismiss.  My point, however, is that canines can’t tell us when they need help.  They have to convey messages in another way. 

Humans, on the other hand, have the ability to call out for help when we are struggling.  And sometimes, we struggle.  The world can be a cruel place.  People don’t treat us in the ways we want them to.  Things don’t happen on our timeline.  Life feels difficult and we find ourselves scared and lonely and hurt.  When the tough times come, and they always will, we can ask for help.  Of course, there’s that tiny little problem we humans have with the whole asking others for help idea, and that is the fact that we HATE doing it.  Yet, the fact remains.  Sometimes . . . we need to be rescued.

Help can come in many forms.  Maybe a smile from a stranger would lift our spirit.  Perhaps a night out with our husband would calm our soul.  Maybe lunch with a friend who will share a cupcake (sans calorie counting) would bring us joy.  For me, all these things sustain me through the inevitable tough times, along with many others – long walks, good music, Bailey’s on the rocks after the kids have gone to bed on a Saturday night.:) 

Still, there is only one who can truly rescue me.  And all I have to do to find him, is look up.     

Psalm 34:17   The Lord hears his people when they call to him for help.  He rescues them from all their troubles.  

Our little Macie couldn’t ask for help when her liver was shutting down, but her eyes let me know she was in great need.  I pray I will be able to cry out for help when I am in such need - to my family, to my friends, to God.  And I pray I will be able to recognize when someone around me is crying out for help, whether they are using words or not.