Faith In Fiction | A Fur-Ever Adoption

A few months after Bella, my shih tsu, passed away, I was invited to a dog rescue event. That event is today and, in my heart, I don’t think I’m ready to adopt another dog yet. I have two cats and am not sure that either of them is ready to welcome a different dog into their lives yet either. But as I drive north on the freeway, I think, ”what can it hurt to spend an afternoon looking at cute canines?”

As I open my car door and step onto the fairgrounds on this hot San Diego summer day, I am surrounded by dozens of tents across the massive property and question again why I’m here. Tempted to get back into my car and drive home, I almost regret promising my friend Lizzy that I would meet her at the main entrance at noon. Glancing at my watch, I realize that it’s already noon so I walk briskly towards the main gate. As soon as Lizzy and I see each other, we embrace and start chatting. Lizzy tells me, teardrops falling as she speaks, that she lost her beloved black labrador last week so this is to be just a casual afternoon stroll to relax and talk, with no intention of finding a new pet for either of us. I breathe a sigh of relief that we’re on the same page about our afternoon plans.

As we walk along, talking and laughing, we pass tent after tent with cute dogs, of every shape, size and color, waiting for forever homes. Suddenly, my eyes lock with those of a tiny yorkshire terrier puppy in the gated area directly in front of me. I bend down for just a moment to talk to him and, as if we are having a real conversation, he barks back at me. Laughing, I rise slowly and then continue strolling along the outer fence with Lizzy, the puppy matching us step for step on the inside of the fence, never taking his gaze off of me. As Lizzy and I enter the next tent, I can hear that little terrier’s bark becoming louder and sharper, almost ear piercing, and I try to ignore it. And ignore it I do, for almost a full minute. 

As I turn and head back towards that barking puppy, I spot his ‘I need a home’ sign and call him by name, ‘Buddy.’ I watch as he bounds towards me, his legs leaping high above the ground as he runs, and he easily beats me to the entrance gate. There is no doubt in my mind that I’m going to adopt him and make him part of my family just as Christ called me by name and made me part of God’s family many years ago:

“In love He predestined us to be adopted as His sons through Jesus Christ, in accordance with His pleasure and will.” Ephesians 1:5

Opening the gate, I walk into the tent area and grab that adorable little puppy, holding him close to me, his heart racing, his tongue licking and his tail wagging uncontrollably. My heart is incredibly full of love for my newfound four-legged friend just as his heart appears to overflow with love for me.

In order to make this dog my own, I first must convince his foster mother that I’ll be a good dog parent. Two other dog rescue volunteers then ask me if I’m sure that a puppy, especially this rambunctious one, is ‘the right fit’ for me. Glancing through the stack of adoption paperwork that I’ve been handed, I find that I must promise, in writing, to love this dog even if he tears up my furniture and eats my shoes. I assume that naughty behavior is why he is an abandoned rescue dog in need of a new home. As I sign the last page of the pile of papers, this dog’s status is changed legally. He is no longer “lost and lonely” as noted on his ‘I need a home’ sign, but he now is legally owned and unconditionally loved. Buddy now has a family and a home that will give him freedom (even to eat shoes) along with the glories and blessings of sibling cats, a yard to run in, occasional table scraps and a warm human bed to sleep on. I wonder for a moment if my joy about my new fur baby is even a slight mirror or reflection of God’s love and joy when I accepted His invitation to be adopted by Him.

The dog rescue coordinator tells me that I can take the dog home with me now, but with this particular rescue organization, there will be a 2-month wait before the adoption is finalized. During that time, the organization has the right to visit my home to make sure that Buddy is being well taken care of. What an amazing picture this “fur-ever” adoption is of a Christ follower’s “forever” adoption as a son or daughter of God. As soon as we become a believer, we are part of God’s family and look forward to that glorious day of full redemption and adoption, the resurrection of our bodies:

“Not only so, but we ourselves, who have the first-fruits of the Spirit, groan inwardly as we wait eagerly for our adoption as sons, the redemption of our bodies” Romans 8:23

As I walk over to officially claim Buddy as mine, Lizzy reaches into her pocket and hands me the leash that belonged to her beloved labrador. With tears in my eyes and a smile on her face, I thank her for being such a wonderful friend. In spite of missing her own dog so deeply and in spite of her insistence that we wouldn’t look for new pets today, she came totally prepared and is abundantly joyful that she brought me here, this day, to find my new best friend.