If there's one thing I have learned over the years: Prayer works! I learn this over and over again - sometimes in big ways, and sometimes in smaller ways.
When my daughter moved out on her own and went back to Montana, I was devastated. When she told me that I was going to be a grandma, I felt my life had spun out of control! I just knew that soon I would be wearing Depends, and dying my hair blue! GRANDMA? How could this be? I picture me as a 21-year-old; and yet scare the hell myself every time I pass a mirror! I'm not kidding - it is a shock when I see my tired-ass face, in the light of day, in the rear view mirror of my Bronco!
Last summer, I struggled with all these changes. I thought about life, how short it can be, and how mine was soon to be over. I started to feel overwhelmed with a kind of grief. No more babies of my own, no more school for the kids, yadda, yadda. I prayed on more than one occasion that I would have something come into my life to care for; to spend time with.
One hot, July day I was taking a short cut over a lonely, dirt road. It was 106 degrees and I had no air conditioning, so had the window down. I received a text from Rex and had pulled over to reply. I thought I heard a baby cry and shut the engine off so I could hear better. I heard the sound again. I got out of the Bronco and crossed the road, entering the brush. And there she was. A little black puppy, not more than five or six weeks old. Too young to wean, with a cracked and dry nose, and very unhappy. I thought to myself "a mutt!" And planned to take her to the nearest rescue shelter. When I got her to the car, I opened her mouth to inspect. Black roof. She looked to have some Border Collie in her. "I just can't keep her", I told myself. After all, I had been waiting to find a Red Heeler. I have never gotten along with Border Collies. However, when she crawled into my lap and cuddled against me, I started to realize that she may be an answer to my prayers. I silently thanked my Heavenly Father, and made a promise to care for her.
Since moving to Oklahoma, I have spent some time with members of the Creek Indian tribe. I have fallen in love with the people, their language, their generosity, and their willingness to share their culture. I researched and found that Yekce (pronounced Yeck-Chay) means Stray Dog. What a fitting name for her! And so that is how Yekce became my companion, my partner. She comes with me everyday now, seated on the passenger side of my Bronco. She has already been to Montana, traveled to some barrel races, and listens to my every thought as though I really make sense!
Here is Chenoa with Yekce on my fall trip to Montana.
Stray Dog, or Yekce, is God's answer to my prayers. She is someone to care for and I'm truly thankful for her! She is my constant reminder that God does care about my silly requests and worries!