It was late. Will was still at a meeting. So I grabbed my keys and started driving up and down our neighborhood calling her name. I did this for about 25 minutes, worrying the whole time she had been hit by a car. Why didn’t she come when I called? Where was she? She couldn’t have gotten far.
When I finally found her two neighbors were trying to gently corral her so they could get a hold of her. But she was so scared. I called out but she didn’t respond. Then finally when she saw my face, she stepped toward me. Tail tucked underneath her, sad eyes. Oh, Spoonie.
I got her home. Inside her crate where she feels safest. We were both relieved.
It didn’t occur to me until later when Will and I talked why she didn’t come when I called. Why she didn’t turn around til I was right there … Spoonie is losing her hearing.
This made me sad. Poor dog. She busts out the gate. Runs around in the dark. Gets scared by helpful neighbors. And I’m calling for her the whole time but she just can’t hear me.
I wonder if God feels the same way about me?
I’m running around in the dark, terrified. Trying to find my way home but I can’t hear his voice.
I’m going to try and listen better today. And when I can’t hear anything, I’m going to look for his face.