My friend Becca will read that and think about her favorite TV show.
My Mom will read it and think about people who need Jesus.
Chris will read it and think about the Baylor-OU football game.
Lost can mean a lot of different things.
But this morning it meant our dogs.
It all started with a way-too-quiet morning. Do you ever just get used to the normal "noise" of your house, and then suddenly panic when you realize that it is too quiet? A quiet ChellBell or a quiet dog in our house means someone is up to no good. And it was too quiet in our yard this morning.
On account of the iron gate being wide open. And the dogs not being in the yard anymore.
Our house backs up to a greenbelt, which backs up to a park. And with the unusual quiet having lasted for maybe 10 minutes (we figured that out once we figured out that it was too quiet), there was no telling where big tweedle dee and little tweedle dum had ventured off to.
Maybe the dogs weren't lost. They weren't looking for home, worried about where they were (although I can just hear the big dog say, "we're going to get in trouble", and the little dog respond, "come on, live a little!"). They were just out roaming.
Maybe it was the dog owners who were lost. Without a clue of where to start. On foot or in car? East or West? Park or Neighborhood? Clueless and Lost. Sad and Worried. Did I mention that neither dog had a collar on?
I'm happy to say that after sweet prayers from ChellBell and a 20 minute drive, Chris came home with both dogs who were one block away, together, sitting on the sidewalk. Perhaps waiting for the school bus or simply resting from their big adventure.
And now the house is back to being full of barking and growling and dog noise that we just ignore. But wouldn't wish away. (even the little dog!)
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