There are times in your life when you get a sinking feeling you are being taken for a ride. A couple of weeks ago I had that experience as I was following directions in my car from a Ecuadorian lady that I had been waiting on for almost an hour. I had one of our missionaries in the car with me including my 3 children. This lady was giving me instructions to a house that held the prize we sought, a little male Yorkie. As we drove further and further away from the safe part of Quito into the "hood" I was just certain that this lady had some kids waiting to carjack us or take the money I had brought to buy a puppy for the kids.
I found myself driving up a VERY steep hill in a stick shift truck (only my second day driving it by the way), praying that we would find this place soon. I could sense my friend Gail ( an MK born and raised here) was feeling a little uneasy too. We came to a small shack perched beneath the street and the lady in the car with us called the owner of the house on the phone telling her to come out with the puppy. As she came up the many stairs from her small abode I could not see any dog and was keenly aware of a group of teenagers some 50 feet behind us. When she approached the truck she lifted up her poncho and there held the cutest little puppy I have ever seen. At that moment my children fell in love and I knew that I would not be able to leave without that puppy. The children played with him in the back seat as we haggled on the price, the papers (she didn't have any with her, but said she could get them), and the shot records (didn't have those either, but once again said she would get them.
We agreed on a price and I started to drive us back down the mountain into town so she could produce the papers and a receipt for the dog. The lady and my friend Gail were having a discussion about Christ and I could tell that this lady didn't think too much of Jesus. She kept saying that Jesus didn't love dogs, whatever she meant by that.... When we got to the corner she immediately opened the door and said she needed to leave there. Of course the traffic cop waved me to go, so I had no choice. No papers, no shot record, and no receipt. But we happily went on our way with a pooch named "Snickers" by the kids.
Our first night was rough as he threw up and then passed blood in his stool. I was certain he had parvo and had Ken take him to an all-night vet clinic nearby. The vet recommended a special diet and some medicine. Within a few days we had a happy, healthy little guy with a sweet personality all his own. Snickers is now one of the family and we couldn't imagine life being nearly as fun without him.
I found myself driving up a VERY steep hill in a stick shift truck (only my second day driving it by the way), praying that we would find this place soon. I could sense my friend Gail ( an MK born and raised here) was feeling a little uneasy too. We came to a small shack perched beneath the street and the lady in the car with us called the owner of the house on the phone telling her to come out with the puppy. As she came up the many stairs from her small abode I could not see any dog and was keenly aware of a group of teenagers some 50 feet behind us. When she approached the truck she lifted up her poncho and there held the cutest little puppy I have ever seen. At that moment my children fell in love and I knew that I would not be able to leave without that puppy. The children played with him in the back seat as we haggled on the price, the papers (she didn't have any with her, but said she could get them), and the shot records (didn't have those either, but once again said she would get them.
We agreed on a price and I started to drive us back down the mountain into town so she could produce the papers and a receipt for the dog. The lady and my friend Gail were having a discussion about Christ and I could tell that this lady didn't think too much of Jesus. She kept saying that Jesus didn't love dogs, whatever she meant by that.... When we got to the corner she immediately opened the door and said she needed to leave there. Of course the traffic cop waved me to go, so I had no choice. No papers, no shot record, and no receipt. But we happily went on our way with a pooch named "Snickers" by the kids.
Our first night was rough as he threw up and then passed blood in his stool. I was certain he had parvo and had Ken take him to an all-night vet clinic nearby. The vet recommended a special diet and some medicine. Within a few days we had a happy, healthy little guy with a sweet personality all his own. Snickers is now one of the family and we couldn't imagine life being nearly as fun without him.
2 comments:
we pray for you'll all the time. love Tommye
Here in Panama, the "Panama hats" that are sold to tourists are all made in China. The traditional hat here in Panama looks nothing like a "Panama hat" and are usually made by the indigenous of Panama. Selling hats from China is just another way that gringo tourists are duped into spending money.
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