Blog Your Blessings: 'You'll be Blessed'

Because of my own carelessness, my daughter's Dachshund Clyde ran away yesterday and didn't return until five this morning. From the time he bolted through the (duh) open door until I went to sleep last night, I walked the beaches of Topsail, questioned vacationers, drove through neighborhoods, and prayed he would return. I notified the police, the beach patrol, the elderly gentleman picking cans and bottles from the trash at the park--everyone--that Clyde was missing. Up went a video on YouTube and some local sites asking for Clyde's safe return. We did all we could think of doing to bring that dog home.

In my heart I knew there was nothing to do but wait. He would have to come home on his own. Still, there was no way I could stop looking for my daughter's dog. No way I could shoot the philosophical angle of wait-and-see over this dog she loves so much.

Della was three hours into the trip home when she received my call that Clyde had run away. The car turned around and she joined the search party.

We stood on the beach after supper yesterday and I apologized again for losing the dog. "It's all my fault, Dell," I said to her. "I know, mom, but I don't blame you." She hugged me. I cried. The search went on.

The elderly gentleman in the park had told me, "You'll be blessed," when he took my number and said he'd let me know if he found Clyde. "I'm waiting for it," I thought bitterly as I got ready for bed but there was no dog.

Yet I knew. I had been blessed. By my daughter's gracious love. By the man who cycled all over Surf City for me looking for the pup. By the vacationers who told me what they knew and sincerely promised they'd do what they could. By the lady at the police station who took down all my information and told me she hoped I'd find the dog--and to be sure to tell her if I did. By the man at the park who promised a blessing; he didn't let me forget that life is a blessing even in situations like this one. There were so many.

Last night we left some of Adella's clothes on the front porch. I hoped Clyde would get a whiff of his best buddy and come home. Did that do it? I don't know. But he was here in the morning and in Adella's arms. And he was remarkably clean. Today he has been remarkably grateful for the soft cushions on the furniture outside and for my steadfast attention. He knows where life is good. We have been tethered to each other all day. I'm a slow learner, but when I get it, I get it.

I have learned that you do all you can and then you go to sleep, peacefully, knowing that life takes care of itself. It really does. My last prayer last night? "Clyde, come home." Life does take care of itself. The trick is to be the place with the soft cushions for the ones you love.

P.S. Here's Dell's blog about Clyde and her take on the nightmare that ended well.