Over the last two years, when I hear these three words here’s what happens to me:
I burst into tears.
I get a huge pit in my stomach.
I drop to my knees and pray for his safe return.
And then I go into Super Dog Mom mode to find him.
Oh, this dog!
On the way home from dinner with our hula ‘ohana last night, Ric checked messages and discovered that our neighbor Mano (the super amazing neighbor that gave the girls bikes and boogie boards) called us to let us know that Maka got out. He and his son looked for him for an hour, but couldn’t find him. This was two days before Maka’s 2nd birthday.
My heart sank.
Ric built Maka a deluxe size kennel in the garage. We have a fan on him, open the windows and crack the garage door for maximum airflow. Before we left, Emery argued that the garage door was too high. I knew Kahea couldn’t fit underneath (that’s our test), but what if I had misjudged? What if in the excitement of seeing my hula ‘ohana I forgot to lock his kennel? My heart sank when I realized this was all my fault. Whenever Maka and Bella escaped, I had four local networks on Facebook that I could post on. I don’t have that here.
Kahea was crying hysterically in the back seat. “Mom, it’s late and it’s dark. He doesn’t know anyone here and the hurricane is coming. He’s going to be wet and scared, Mom. We have to find him!”
“Yes Baby Girl, we do. The best thing we can do right now is pray.”
And so we did. One of the things that I learned at The Rock Church (our home church in Washington), was to be very specific and intentional with my prayers, so I choked back my tears and kept it simple: Dear Jesus, please protect Maka and bring him safely home to us.
Maka’s never ran more than 1.5 miles away from home, but he’s never been missing for more than an hour, either. The worrisome part is less than a mile away is Kamehameha Hwy/Pearl Harbor on one side and Aloha Stadium on the other. All we had was prayer.
Ric and I had driven separately, so we drove through different areas of our neighborhood with no luck.
We arrived home at same time, opened the garage door and this is what we saw.
That is one AMAZING answer to prayer.
When we talked to Mano, he said that he was doing his dishes and heard the distinctive jingle of Maka’s collar. He went outside to wrangle him and saw a white dog run out of the culdesac. As the dog turned left, he heard every dog down the street start barking as the white dog ran past. He was certain it was him. “I’ve lived here 16 years and I’ve never seen a big white dog like Maka running loose in this neighborhood.” Where that dog came from is a mystery.
All I know is that I’m thankful Maka didn’t pull one of his amazing Houdini moves and escape. I’m thankful that I have a caring neighbor that looked for a dog that he was sure was ours. And I’m praying that the phantom white dog found his people last night.
I am glad (and somewhat amazed) that this dog made it to his 2nd birthday, which is today (9/4). After all the surgeries, the swallowing of foreign objects, the escapes from our backyard in Monroe, and the journey to Hawai’i, I often wondered if he’d make it this far. We are thankful for this blue-eyed beast that keeps us on our toes yet somehow remains the calming force in The Caba Hale.
Hau’oli lā hānau Makapolūnani!
think know you’re the reason I have gray hair.