Thursday, December 1, 2011

Higher Power Intervention or Coincidence?

Yes, I know it's been a while since I blogged.  I have alot to blog about actually.  And my comeback to blogging was not going to feature what I'm about to cover.  Instead I wanted to talk about summer vacation.  I'll still do that.  But not today.

I haven't had the best week.  I've thought about going into a church and dousing myself with Holy Water.  My grandmother used to say this was a cure for anything.  In fact, she had a bottle of it stored in her kitchen cabinet and if you were sick or troubled, that stuff came out and you were doused.

To start out, I somehow, in a fit of Darwinian-stupid-human-tricks, backed my car into a pole.  Now, when people say they backed their car into a pole, normally you think:  back bumper gone, back lights done in, etc.  No no...not me.  I made a big sweeping turn out of a parking lot that had a pole inopportunely situated in the middle of it, and crunched that pole right into my driver's-side door.  I did a really good job of it too.  Perfect crunching.  I had my mom in the car at the time and at first thought I was hit by another car.  Then I looked to the left and saw the pole glaring at me through the window on my side of the car.  My question was:  "Who put that pole there?"

My insurance company is great, and fast, and probably still laughing about this.

The day after this occurred, I went to ride one of my horses in the morning.  I had a nice ride.  It was a bit blustery that day, and colder than it's been, and a slight drizzle was still hanging around.  Nevertheless, I was in good spirits despite the car incident.  When I was finished I went to the car and put my combination into the driver's side door, then remembered....it didn't matter that the combination would open my locked door, because the HANDLE DID NOT WORK ON THE BASHED SIDE, so I wouldn't be able to get in.  The secret of getting in the car now, until it is repaired, is to crawl onto the passenger seat and lift the handle on the driver's side door and pop it open from the inside.  I forgot this when I LOCKED THE CAR DOORS and LEFT MY KEYS IN THE CAR.  I always leave my keys in the car because I use the combination to get in my vehicle.

Okay, so I resigned myself to the fact that I was walking home.  That would be an over 4-mile walk, in MUCK BOOTS.  Here's a photo of MUCK BOOTS to show you how really stupid a 4-mile walk can be while you are wearing them.  (I leave my riding boots at the stable, and they would even be more uncomfortable to walk home in.)

Lucky for me, the gentleman who does the barn clean up in the morning, was still there and offered me a ride, as he was going that way to deliver round bales to a farm near me.  I didn't want him to go out of his way, nor did I want him to try to turn his vehicle around with the round bales attached, so I had him drop me off at a farm about 1.5 miles from my house, and I walked from there.  Just as I got out of his truck and began my walk down the road, it started to drizzle.  Yep.....I wasn't suprised.  I was starting to think about where the nearest church was so I could bathe in that water.

Later in the day, my husband came home from work and we took the extra key and went to retrieve my car.  He took me to Starbucks first for a coffee.  I must have looked pathetic and he felt sorry for me.  Nothing like some caffeine to get rid of that whole "can't believe I did that" feeling.

Today, the sun came out and I decided the safest place for me was in the house.  However, I did need to take our dog, Moe, to his allergy vet for a check up.  This vet's office is in a city South of us, and about 50 minutes from our house on a good traffic day.  So I piled Moe into the car in the early afternoon, after, of course, crawling over the passenger seat to pop the door on the driver's side, buckled myself in and headed for the vet's office.

I am happy to report this was an uneventful trip, but one that took me to a point where I would be heading home in end-of-day work traffic once the appointment was over.  The problem is this:  we have plenty of interstates, but most of them are PACKED with cars and crazy drivers and I was already having a pretty bad week, so I carefully planned the route in my head that I would take.  It was NOT a route I would EVER take under normal circumstances, but more of a back road alternative which would eventually put me on the Turnpike and headed home.  Our Turnpike is not heavily traveled during normal days, but during holidays and weekends in the summer, it can also be an option to avoid.


Moe.  This is about as excited as he gets.
 I also normally do not STAY at the vet's office.  My husband works in that area, so we do a pass off, he stays with Moe and Moe gets his check up, and I head back home or to the store to food shop or elsewhere.  But today I stayed.  AND, I usually have my husband drive Moe home, but today, I took Moe with me for the return trip.

I don't know how many of you believe in divine intervention.  I have believed in a higher power of intervention for a long time.  I call my higher power God.  But many people have different names for their higher power.  Some things, yes, are simply coincidence.  But some are clearly not.  And what I'm about to describe to you, in my book, is clearly not coincidence.

I drove off of Market Street onto Wyoming Avenue in Kingston (those of you who live near me will know this area, so I'm giving you a visual).  Following Wyoming Avenue through Forty Fort and into Wyoming, you eventually come to a light at the Eighth Street Bridge area.  Once you cross over that main thoroughfare, the road goes from a two lane to a one lane, and there are houses and side roads to the right that all lead down to the Susquehanna River.  It was right here, where the lane begins to go from two lanes to one, that I spotted, out of the corner of my left eye, a dog bounding into the road with a leash dragging to his attached collar.  At about the same time, I noticed a woman off to my right, standing with her hands up to her mouth clearly upset and somewhat in shock.  And quickly the scene played out in my head that this dog was going to die on this road because this area at work traffic time is a non-stop thoroughfare of fast moving vehicles.  Luckly, there wasn't a single car coming from the opposite direction and the dog ran back to a lawn on the left side of the road, all the time bouncing around.  He looked young....like a lanky, growing puppy.  And, yes folks, he was an orange belton setter.  You don't see many setters in my area, but I knew immediately what he was.

It was right at this time that I stopped my car right in the middle of the two lanes coming to one to halt the multitude of traffic vehicles behind me.  I know some of the cars behind me saw the dog because no one honked.  Again, this is most unusual for Northeastern Pennsylvania at rush hour.  And within about four seconds of my totally stopping my car, the dog ran directly in front of my wheels so that I could not see him and off down a street on the right.  If I had been moving, I would have been the one to hit him.

Without even thinking about it, I turned right down that street, parked my car on the corner and got out.  The woman, by this time, was headed down the street too, and I called out to her "Is that your dog?" To which she quietly replied, "Yes, it is."  She was still very upset.

I went around to the passenger side and got Moe out of the car.  You see my line of thinking here?  What dog can pass up the opportunity to meet another dog, especially a puppy that was bounding in happiness at having slipped its owner's grasp in heavy traffic.  Another car on the side street had stopped and two women got out, clearly as concerned about the dog as I was.  I shouted to the owner, "I have my dog with me...maybe your dog will come to him."  No sooner had the words come out of my mouth and the puppy spotted Moe and ran right to him.  I let them sniff each other and quietly leaned down and grabbed the leash.

The owner was clearly relieved and kept saying "Oh, bless you, bless you, God bless you."  I handed her the leash and said, "Hang on tight," and Moe and I headed back to the car.  Moe does not understand what a hero he was to this woman, nor that we were playing out a plan that was well laid out for us to follow.  I know it was waiting for us, because there was no hesitation, no second guessing, no question "should we stop?" "should we turn here and wait?" "should we get involved?"  Nope.  None.  It was played out like we had practiced it for weeks, and a young orange belton happy-go-lucky puppy was saved.

In the light of what could have occurred, my week wasn't really that bad.  I'll save the Holy Water bath for another time.  God has already blessed me.

Aaarrrroooooo!!!

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