Fluffy




	WRITE 2 THE HEART Stories that are aimed "Write 2 the Heart" April 8, 2003 Cheryl Speir, Editor, moderator@write2theheart.com ----------------------------------------------------------- Welcome to your latest issue of "Write 2 the Heart" You are receiving this newsletter because you requested a subscription or a friend generously forwarded their copy to you. To subscribe send a blank e-mail to subscribe@write2theheart.com. ------------------------------------------------------------ When Fluffy had a problem, she instinctively turned to the one she knew could help her. Shouldn't we do the same? ------------------------------------------------------------ Fluffy By Bob Shaw ------------------------------------------------------------ As a general rule, I'm a puppy and dog person, although I'm very fond of kittens, cats, and most other members of the animal family. One of our favorites was a little silver poodle named Fluffy. Her master had been a good friend of the family for many years. We received a phone call one weekend telling us of her passing away, and the family had to try to find a new home for the little dog. We drove 150 miles, and found her in a small cage in the basement. She was in pretty rough shape, with only enough food and water to survive. Ronni held her in her lap on the trip home, talking to her, and trying to reassure her that everything would be OK. From that time on, she belonged to her. The trip home went smoothly, but the next few days were pretty trying for everyone. Fluffy was so upset; she wouldn't let Ronni out of her sight. Slowly but surely, Fluffy became the feisty little critter we remember so well. She was, from her stubby little tail, to her buck toothed little grin, Ronni's dog. And she took her position quite seriously. Even playing, if she thought some of us were hurting her master, she'd bite them. Her first litter came about a year later. Everything went just like the book says, normal all the way. She started around two in the morning, and had four puppies. That afternoon, Fluffy brought one of them in to the living room, and laid it at Ronni's feet, sounding a slight whimper to let us know there was a problem. It had stopped breathing, and she did the only thing she could do; she took it to her master, who she believed could do anything. As Ronni picked up the baby, she knew something was wrong. At once, she started rubbing it, trying to get the circulation going. She pushed on its little chest, and blew in to its tiny face to get it to breathing. This went on for several minutes. Just when she was ready to give up, I noticed Fluffy perking up. She'd heard something. Then a few moments later, we heard it too. The baby made a slight whimpering sound. It was alive! After all these years, I still have an image of this moment in my mind. It's a picture of one mother, trying desperately to save the baby of another. I can remember thinking they were both keepers. I've heard that animals aren't aware, or can't really understand what's going on around them, but I can still see the tear tracks running down that little dog's face. For the next several days, she kept bringing the puppy in to be checked over. Ronni would look at it and assure Fluffy that it was all right. Then Fluffy would take it back and brood over them like there were no other puppies in the world. A few weeks later, we received a phone call from a friend. They'd heard the story about the baby, and wanted to know if they could adopt it. Things worked out well. Fluffy liked them, and the puppy was right at home with them. And for the next nine years, it was a constant companion and blessing in their lives. Fluffy had two more litters of puppies. And each litter always had a puppy that she thought needed a little extra care. Of course, Ronni was always there to give it. But, there was the day that she brought something in to be checked out. As I came in from work, Ronni was just a little visibly shaken. All I could get out of her was, "She brought me a dead mouse.." Fluffy stayed with us for many years. I have no doubt that she's waiting, just on the other side, in a place called The Rainbow Bridge. Bob Shaw Caperabbit @ semo.net You are encouraged to write to the authors to let them know what you think of their story, just remember to remove the space before and after the @ symbol. The space is placed in the address to protect our writers from viruses and email harvesting programs. Have a comment on today's story? Send it to: moderator@write2theheart.com ---------------------------------------------------------------- Bob and wife Ronni live in Cape Girardeau, Missouri. They'd enjoy hearing from you, and hope you like the story. -------------------------------------------------------------- -------------------------------------------------------------- Letters From Our Readers -------------------------------------------------------------- Grandfathers do strange things - this I know. I am the grandfather of ten, three of whom I care for every day. I could see the expression on your son's face. Love does such things. Love is. Hard to believe, but in the first century of the first millennium there was an educated Jew, a defender of his faith, who underwent a spiritual transformation. Some say it was a miracle. Whatever happened, we know this: He Changed. Today, anyone can read his letters; and even if you don't believe his message, think about what must have inspired him to write them. My favorite letter is this one: "Now I will show you the way which surpasses all the others. If I speak with human tongues and angelic as well, but do not have love, I am a noisy gong, a clanging symbol. If I have the gift of prophecy and, with full knowledge, comprehend all mysteries, if I have faith great enough to move mountains, but do not have love, I am nothing. Love is patient; love is kind. Love is not jealous, it does not put on airs, it is not snobbish. Love is never rude, it is not self-seeking, it is not prone to anger; neither does it brood over injuries. Love does not rejoice in what is wrong but rejoices with the truth. There is no limit to love's forbearance, to its trust, its hope, its power to endure. Love never fails. Prophecies will cease, tongues will be silent, knowledge will pass away. Our knowledge is imperfect and our prophesying is imperfect. When the perfect comes, the imperfect will pass away. When I was a child I used to talk like a child, think like a child, reason like a child. When I became a man I put childish ways aside. Now we see indistinctly, as in a mirror; then we shall see face to face. My knowledge is imperfect now; then I shall know even as I am known. There are in the end three things that last: faith, hope, and love, and the greatest of these is love." Paul [1 Cor 13] Where did he get such ideas, let alone ideals, in the first century? Certainly not in the Hebrew, Greek, and Roman writing of the period. Was he just another dreamer? Look at the record, as we would say today. Was he infallible? No. Did he practice what he preached? Yes. Even though I was named after him, and read about him when I was young, his words never hit me until I was much older. Would that we could understand him, and his inspiration, in the new millennium. Our faith is not measured by what we say and do, but by our capacity to love. Thank you for sharing Paul That was a beautiful story by Annettee. I'm glad it's a true one! God bless Puaichie --------------------------------------------------------------- Military Prayer Reminder --------------------------------------------------------------- As you read over this list of names, please take that moment to pray for these young people and their families: Chris Speir Tim Speir Alan Thaddeaus Howard Todd Holland Graham William Julie Sagel Jessie Marshal Thompson Jason Please continue to pray for our country, our leaders, and our troops at this time. If you have loved ones in the military, or who are being called to go overseas, send their names (first and last or first only) to be included in our prayer reminder. --------------------------------------------------------------- Chocolate Alert! I know that got your attention! I am working on a chocolate cookbook to be given away on Write 2 the Heart's web site. This work in progress is tentatively called "Write 2 the Heart of the Chocolate Lover." Anyone who would like to join in the delicious fun, send a chocolate recipe with a brief bio to be included after each recipe. Send as many as you wish. --------------------------------------------------------------- Cheryl's Corner Four-year-old Mason helped me cook last night. He was so thrilled that I allowed him to pour frozen broccoli into a casserole dish and butter the bread for supper, that he thought he should do something good for me. He invited me to come to his house and have some Rice Christmas Treats. You would be proud of me; I accepted his offer with a straight face. God Bless, Cheryl ----------------------------------------------------------------- ----------------------------------------------------------------- © 2003 Write 2 the Heart Nothing may be reproduced or published without the written permission of the individual author or copyright owner. All rights belong to the authors.