Puppies!
It was probably around 10:15pm, and most of us were headed to bed when Sandra tore out of her room. “Willow is giving birth!”
My other housemates and I ran into her room and found the dachshund/sheepdog mix breathlessly trying to find a place to escape. We pulled her out from under the bed and ran around like ruffled mother hens doing all we could to make her comfortable.
Twenty minutes later. Still no puppies.
“Maybe they’re Braxton Hicks contractions (“false” labor pains)!” I suggested.
So a few of us went back to bed. Just as I was drifting off to sleep again, I heard Sandra yell jubilantly across the house: “Guys, Willow had a puppy!”
I moaned, unearthed myself from my warm covers and shuffled into Sandra’s bathroom… to a magical scene.
I looked on in awe as Willow cleaned off her firstborn. A few minutes later, another puppy followed. My housemates and I rejoiced to see their little lungs expand.
By early the next morning, the humans in our house were outnumbered by dogs, five to seven.
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I helped kill a chicken! Our next door neighbor raises roosters and hens. Unfortunately, a couple of them Houdini’ed their way out of their crate one morning, much to the joy of a nearby boxer who caught one up in his jaws and happily plopped it on our doorstep. Dinner!
Um…
I gingerly picked up the panting chicken and my friend and I formed a somber parade to the neighbor’s front porch. Nobody home.
“We have to put the chicken out of its misery!” My housemate Sara said compassionately. She disappeared into our kitchen and returned with the sharpest butcher knife she could find (which, sadly, wasn’t very sharp).
Chop, chop.
We placed Mr. Chicken up high in a 5-gallon bucket to keep him away from the happy boxer. Later that night, I delivered him to our neighbors with some chocolate chip cookies.
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God gave me a new name.
In my previous blog, I shared how I’ve often wrestled with understanding Jesus’ promise of “Life to the full” (John 10:10). While I was reading one afternoon, one word stood out as if colored with a bold pen: “zoe”. Life.
That same week, my classmates prayed for me during worship track. As they were praying, one friend wrote down a message from the Father:
“I love you. I am going to give you a new name. It means Life: Zoe.”
I cried.
Simon, called Peter. Jacob, who became Israel. Saul, known as Paul.
Anna, called Zoe.
