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In 1979 we were living in the Houston area when I received a phone call from a lady I barely knew that would change our lives. 

    “Phyllis,” she said. “My friend raises AKC-registered Cocker Spaniels and a neighbor’s small Poodle broke in and bred her Cocker. She doesn’t want mixed cockapoo puppies and will dispose of them if I can’t find a home for each. We can’t let that happen. Will you please consider taking one for your boys?”

    “Give me the information so I can contact the dog owner if we decide to pursue the idea. However, Monty is out of town right now, and we’ll have to discuss it before making a decision.”

    Later, I called the dog owner to make arrangements to see the puppies the following Wednesday after my husband returned. We were presently without a pet and hadn’t considered getting another because of the heart-wrenching death of the last dog. I mentioned something about the puppies to the boys. Although they seemed interested, they were nonchalant. Monty and I took them with us to check the situation to see if we should get one of these puppies.

    The home was located in a rural setting. When we arrived, the lady apologized and told us she only had the runt of the litter left. I didn’t notice any particular excitement from either of our sons. We were pretty laid back until the little white ball of curly hair wandered out from behind her mother to greet us. Our ten-year-old David immediately pounced on the ground, hovering over the puppy and shouting, “We’ll take it! We’ll take it!”

    Monty and I looked at each other in shock. Our decision had just been made.

    As we returned home that Wednesday afternoon with our unplanned puppy, we discussed what we needed to do in preparation for her being away from her mother for the first time. David became increasingly distraught as we made plans. He wanted to take the puppy to his Wednesday night youth meeting now.

“That won’t happen, David. We’re running so late that we wouldn’t even make it to church for the evening service. Besides, we still have to get what we need for Kristy tonight.” 

    I couldn’t understand David’s adamant insistence that he “had” to attend his youth meeting until he finally blurted out, “I need to show them that God not only answered our prayers, but he gave us a cute puppy as well!”

“What are you talking about?” I asked.

“Last week, I told my youth group I wanted a puppy, and we all prayed about it.”

“Why didn’t you mention that to us, your parents?” I challenged in my shock.

“Because we told God,” he replied in simple faith.

    Thus began our adventures with Kristy.

    Having grown up on a farm, Monty insisted that animals belonged outside, not in the house. We reached the compromise that Kristy was allowed in the tiled kitchen and on the rug I placed in the doorway of the kitchen extending into the living room. Then I came home one day when Monty was alone in the house with Kristy and was greatly surprised. Monty was sitting in the living room rocker with the puppy in his lap. He was caught and looked so guilty I nearly laughed because she had already wormed her way into his heart, too. That rocking chair became the holder-of-Kristy chair. She knew if anyone sat in that chair and patted their leg, she could leap into their lap from her place on her rug. If anyone sat in her chair, she might just dance a little jig on her hind legs in happy anticipation of being invited to your lap.

I fondly remember a son stretched out on his tummy, writing homework with his left hand and the other arm encircling Kristy. Both were content.

She occupied a special place in all of our hearts. But my favorite memory concerns traveling with Kristy in our pickup. We loved camping out of our truck, and in the 1970s, it was pretty typical (at least in Texas) to have a camper shell on your pickup that had been “booted in.” That merely meant the window on the shell was lined up with the back window of the pickup. It was all sealed together, so it formed a pass-through between the cab of the pickup and the shell on the back. Monty had built a sleeping platform to ride above the wheel wells, and we purchased a thick foam mattress that permanently remained in place. Both boys loved to ride stretched out on thick foam with all the pillows. Hence, the pass-through made great traveling with two boys and a small dog, but it probably would not be legal now because of the seatbelt requirements.

South Texas can be hot. However, the air conditioner in the cab could be directed to the open window in the camper. Kristy loved to travel and would join the boys riding with their heads in the pass-through window. I have many joyous memories of three happy faces framed in the window behind our heads.

Yes, Kristy was a perfect answer to a young boy’s prayer. Suppose I were ever to feel I’m insignificant and don’t count to God. In that case, I merely need to remember how He blessed our entire family when He lovingly answered my son’s prayer for a puppy. That simple touching example illustrates how the Creator of the Universe not only knows us personally but cares in ways that boggle my mind. It stirs my soul to sing out, “Oh, Lord My God, How Great Thou Art!”