This is the saddest I’ve ever seen the boys, I thought. Our two young sons had been crying all afternoon, and they were crying still as I tucked them into bed. Earlier that day, we’d given away Cole, our rambunctious, 11-month-old black Lab. Ethan, 11, and Hunter, 9, had adored him. Cole and the boys had played together as if they were the Three Musketeers.
That was the problem. Cole was big and the boys were small and, unintentionally, he was too rough with them–one day he bit Ethan, drawing blood. The boys deserve a playful, loving dog, I thought. Cole just isn’t the right one.
“I know you want another dog,” I said, trying to soothe them. “I have a feeling God has a plan.” I hoped he did. Where could we find a dog the boys would love as much as Cole?”
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A few days later we flew to Cape San Blas, Florida, for a family vacation. I thought some time on the beach would take their minds off Cole.
And it did. Within 24 hours of arriving, a cute little mutt–part miniature poodle, part shih tzu–raced along the sand and stopped where the boys were playing. She licked their hands to the boys’ delight.
The three of them played for a while. The boys looked around, but the dog’s owner was nowhere in sight. The dog followed them right into my in-laws’ beach house, and flew up the stairs and leaped onto our bed, as if she owned it.
“Can we keep her?” the boys asked.
“No, she’s somebody else’s dog.” I said, checking her collar. Sunny, it said. She’s small, playful and loving. Just right for the boys, I thought. And now I have to disappoint them again.
Later that day we located the owner. The boys were devastated. Sunny would be the second dog they’d have to give up in less than a week.
Sunny’s owner looked at them. “Would you like to keep her?” she asked. She had just moved to a smaller house, she explained, and no longer had room to keep both her dogs. .
“Boys?” I asked, already knowing their answer.
Ethan hugged Sunny and gazed at me. “You were right, Dad, God had a plan.”
