Proof The Bible Is True

Just a few more things to do on the computer before bed. I glanced down at my feet, expecting to see Mocha, our chocolate Lab. But the floor was empty. Mocha was gone.

 

For 12 years he’d been my constant companion. Although Mocha was “my dog,” Hazel, my wife, loved him just as much. Mocha and I played catch with a Frisbee and explored the woods near our rental house in Rockport, Massachusetts.

 

When I let Mocha off his lead in the woods he rushed around, sniffing everywhere, digging into the dirt and flinging himself into stinky vernal pools. The mess was worth it for the fun we had. The kind of fun you can only have with a dog.

 

The clock on my computer read 10:35 p.m. When Mocha was alive and I worked late like this, he rested his muzzle on my arm, gazing up at me with his big brown eyes. “Do you want to go to bed?” I’d asked him. “You don’t have to wait for me.”

 

Once he was sure I was okay by myself, he bounded up the stairs. I couldn’t help but chuckle thinking about it now. Those big brown eyes of his communicated more than I could ever say with my mouth.

 

It was those eyes that had drawn Hazel and me to him. The other puppies in the kennel rolled around playing. Mocha sat at attention looking up at us with those eyes.

 

Read More: The New Friend Our Dog Sent Us – Guideposts