Beauty is in the Eye of the Beholder

           Last autumn at the Blessing of the Animals, I was asked to give a special blessing to a dog named Snoopy, a resident of the Jessamine County Animal Shelter. Snoopy was far from handsome, so far from handsome that I am willing to bet his cell mates at the shelter made fun of him. His ears didn't match, the top of the left side of his head looked a bit flattened and his eyes made him look as though he had no eyelashes. He didn't even look excited to see anyone.With all the activity that was going on, while the other kennel dogs barked and wagged their tails in response to anyone who showed them attention, Snoopy made no response. I really wanted to tell him that if he looked a bit more lively and interested, perhaps someone would be interested in him.
     
    Sadly, Snoopy had been at the shelter for four months, the maximum length of time they kept an animal. I learned that if no one adopted Snoopy over the weekend, he was going to be euthanized the following Monday. I blessed Snoopy, asking God to send Snoopy a loving human with whom he could live and then I walked away, as far away I could get from that sad-eyed dog. But all I could think of was the fact that Snoopy would be dead by Monday afternoon, all because no one cared about him enough to love him. I knew I would be miserable Monday, haunted by the thoughts of Snoopy taking his last walk before being euthanized. Would he know? Would he be frightened? Even if he didn't know, I would. Needless to say, Snoopy ended up going home with me that afternoon. What the heck, when you have three canine mouths to feed, one more can't make much of a difference. Was I ever wrong in that thinking.

          By day's end, Snoopy had become Sam. He was almost shy around the other dogs. He decided that despite his 60 solid pounds of weight and muscle, he was my newest lapdog. He followed me everywhere I went. When I went to bed that night, he jumped up beside me and laid his big misshapen head in my lap.

          Sam is the most laid back, one of the sanest dogs with whom I have ever lived. He no longer looks ugly to me. In fact, he has become handsome in my eyes. He is filled with joy when he awakens in the morning, and looks like he is trying to play hockey with his dog biscuit before he goes to bed. He takes things gently from my fingers, looks right into my eyes when I speak to him and still thinks he has to put his head in  my lap as I sit in bed and read. When it is time for Sam and I to take our nightly walk, he stands at the door and then spins around when he sees me pick up his leash.

         All in all, I don't think God blessed Sam that day at the Blessing of the Animals nearly as much as God blessed me with Sam.