A divine hand at play

Early last Sunday, as my sister approached the gate to open it so she could drive out to church, she called to me: “Elspeth, there’s a puppy at the gate! How did it know you were here? They seem to find you.”

My first thought was that someone who knows that I rescue animals, knowing that I was in Trinidad, had chosen to dump a puppy at my parents’ gates for me to assist.

This has happened before, in Tobago, when (for example) someone tied a grossly pregnant dog with a broken leg close to my front gate.

The puppy was a large one, very friendly, well fed, with a glossy black coat and a light blue collar. A ring attached to the collar had obviously once held a tag which must have fallen off.

Passing my hands along the puppy’s body, I felt no ticks and saw no fleas. Clearly, this was a well-cared-for dog who had somehow got lost from his home. I gave him some food and water, took photos to post to Venus Doggess Of Love animal rescue Facebook page and went upstairs, leaving him in the front garden with the gate closed so that he would not run away.

About an hour later I decided to put him in the back of my vehicle and go driving around the area to see if I could find his owner(s).

Turning left from the road on which my parents live, I headed up a side street off St John Road on which there are many large houses. As it was early Sunday morning, these homes were quiet and closed, front gates locked, as their inhabitants were probably still asleep.

I drove straight up to the last house on the road. The large wrought-iron gate was closed before me, but a boy was sitting in a van on the lawn of the sprawling, fenced property. I waved and he waved back, just as a man and woman exited the house, well dressed, looking as though they might be heading off to church.

Seeing me waving at them, the man opened the electronic gate and came walking towards me.

“Good morning. I was at my parents’ house further down the road and a puppy just turned up at the gate...”

“A black puppy?” asked the man hopefully.

“Yes.”

“Cookie! Cookie!” Clearly overtaken with excitement and gratitude, he explained that their larger dogs had run out of the property some time ago and Cookie had followed. However, whereas the other dogs were retrieved, being a new addition to the family, Cookie probably had not been able to find his way back home.

They had searched around the area, asking neighbours and nearby residents if they had seen their pet, but no one had.

When their own efforts were unsuccessful, they decided to take the divine route.

“Just this morning we prayed to God to keep Cookie in his hands,” the man told me.

“Wow. God works,” I said, imagining the scenario of their prayer being answered by an unseen divine hand literally picking Cookie up from wherever he was and planting him in front of my parents’ gate so that I would come upon him and help him.

I mentioned to him that, coincidentally, I operate an animal rescue organisation currently based in Tobago.

“God works in mysterious ways!” the man said. I went to the car and got Cookie, who, upon being placed on the ground, ran happily into the garden, wagging his tail, as though nothing had happened.

I commented to the man that the timing was perfect – divine, one could say. It was amazing that I had felt moved to leave home at that time with the puppy, just in time to meet them as they were leaving for church.

Had I left a few minutes later, I would have missed them. I might have gone driving around and, having no success at finding the pup’s owner(s), I would have done what I felt was the next best thing – boarded him at a friend’s facility in St Augustine, posted his photo (lost/found) and, if he was not claimed within a certain time, sought a new home for him. It was coincidental, or perhaps divine intervention, that I had made a beeline for that particular house, not even knowing that it was Cookie’s residence.

It was indeed as if a divine hand was at play, guiding the steps of that simple but heartwarming miracle.