jakorte's blog

erhaps, I should be a tad more specific. Elvis is a changed dog. A tiny matte-black Pomeranian, friends rescued him a few years, and he was pretty unhappy. The first time, and many times thereafter, he would snarl, and bark, and assume a threatening pose each time I re-introduced myself. But as I said earlier, he’s a changed dog. Today he comes right up to say hello, following on the heels of Henry who was first in line. Sweet Henry is another rescue. Blind in one eye, he was needfully displaced from his home along with his female companion, Lilly. But it’s Elvis who has changed.

Eager to greet me, he snoodles my palm, and licks my fingers as I extend them for him to verify. He is openly accepting of my back scratches, eventually rolling over. He exposes his short-haired wiry belly and keeps his eyes tightly shut. Now I am unsure, hesitantly rub his tummy. He remains there on the cool marble tile, stretching out his hind legs stiffly. Eyes still squeezed shut, he almost looks as if he is smiling. He lets me soothe and scratch and only moves again when I stop touching him. Yep, Elvis has changed.

It took a lot of work, much use of GOD given patience, and a lot of love. Sometimes, he still has nervous moments, but socially… well, it’s just amazing. Proving, of course, that you can teach an old dog new tricks, and that an old dog can teach us some as well. You’re never too old to learn to trust. Trust in GOD, and be amazed. The peace given in even the most troubled times, will amaze you. When you realize that you’ve found your way through the maze to a peaceful place, it’s amazing. With amazing grace, immersed in surroundings of sorrow, my heart is lifted up. So, it seems for the moment, this morning after my mother’s funeral, I’m ok enjoying the Floridian sunshine, drinking coffee on the lanai, and keeping company with Elvis.