Proof The Bible Is True

My husband has a soft spot for strays. Driving down the highway one rainy day, we spotted a hulking mass of grayish-black fur, with paws the size of a bear’s, wandering along the roadside. “We already have two dogs and two cats,” I protested as he pulled over.

 

“We can’t just leave him there,” he said. “No telling what will happen to him.” He opened the door and the dog climbed in.

 

“Okay,” I agreed, “but we have to try hard to find his owner.” The dog seemed friendly enough, but there was a look about him that spoke of a wilder nature.

 

We called him Gus, and ran ads in the paper and on the radio, but no one claimed him. For the next year and a half Gus lived with us. He was a boisterous dog, and one day his energy got the best of him and he nipped someone.

 

A dog his size needed more space to run. Lord, help us find the home where Gus will be happy, I prayed. We started a new search, for a new owner, a home where Gus was meant to be.

 

Read More: Mysterious Ways: Finding Gus a Home