God's Providence and a Dog Named Zeke

On Thanksgiving evening of 2008, I returned some family members to my rural home after our Thanksgiving day gathering. It was dark, cold, and windy out. Big wet snowflakes were pelting against the car windows as we rounded the curve of my long driveway when we spotted a small dark creature. None of us were sure what it was. He wasn't running away, so I suspected a house animal of some sort. I no more than opened the car door, and in jumped a skinny, wet, cold, and shivering little black dog.

He wasn't exactly the cutest thing I had ever seen, but he was highly lovable. I took the little guy inside, and my husband took one look at the dog and me and said emphatically, "NO!" Keep in mind we already had two in-door boxers and three cats. I argued that he couldn't possibly eat that much because of his size.

I spent the next few days posting lost dog alerts at all the local places where people look for them. He also was flea-infested, which led me to believe that he was dumped by someone who didn't want to deal with it. Sadly, this happens quite frequently in rural areas. People don't want to deal with the responsibilities of owning a pet, dump them off, and assume that someone will find and care for them. I guess it worked for this little guy, and we spent the next few days de-fleaing him.

I chose to name him Zeke as he was making himself at home, much to my husband's dismay, who still did not favor having one more pet in the house.

That winter, our local "Women's Aglow" group hosted a speaker from Buffalo, Minnesota, named Pat Jenson, who runs a horse ranch and ministry that includes therapy via horseback riding for disabled, autistic, or abused children. She takes in abused horses and uses them with abused children to help in the healing process in both accounts.

Pat and her husband Dick did not want to travel home that night, so I offered for them to stay at my house.

I forewarned them about all the animals and how obnoxious they could be. They said it would not be a problem, and they would be more than happy to come. Zeke took a liking to them and slept with them that night, and they fell in love with him. I also explained that I loved the little guy, but my husband was not that fond of him.

We visited for quite some time during their stay, and their visit so blessed me. Dick played old hymns on my piano while Pat and I talked about life in general. She shared some things that she was going through, as in recently going through cancer treatments and suffering many side effects. She also has Fibromyalgia. Dick and Pat also spent much time listening attentively to my life story and the struggles I was facing at the time, and we prayed together about all of the above.

A few months later, Pat called me up, quite saddened that her little dog, a beloved pet of many years, had just passed away, and she was wondering if I would be willing to give up Zeke. I told her I would like to think about it a bit, considering I was pretty attached to him by now. She understood and asked me to think and pray about it and get back to her whenever I wanted. I already knew what my husband wanted, although I did ask in hopes that maybe he had changed his mind. Such was not the case.

I prayed about it and decided that Pat needed Zeke more than I did and decided to give him to her and Dick. I felt God wanted them to have him, which tested my willingness to do what God wanted.

We drove Zeke to Buffalo, a couple of hours from where we live, and left him with his new owners. I cried all the way home.

A few weeks later, Pat called me to update me on Zeke's well-being. She informed me that she had taken him to the vet to make sure he was healthy and up to date with shots, and the vet discovered that he had a chip implant. It was revealed via the implant that Zeke was from the New Orleans area and was most likely a dog rescued from Hurricane Katrina, a devastating storm that hit the Gulf Coast region in 2005. He was also traced to a Des Moines Iowa Humane Society that took in some of the Katrina rescue dogs and was adopted out from there. I live about three hours from Des Moines, so it isn't too unlikely that someone from my area could have adopted him.

What inspired me to write about Zeke, whom Pat renamed Ezekiel and fondly referred to as Zucchini was a most recent visit from Pat and Dick. They just so happened to be in the area for a singing engagement and offered to stop by with Zeke. He and they looked so healthy and happy. They shared how Zeke is involved with the ministry that they do with both people and horses. Zeke also visits nursing homes with Dick.

I couldn't have been happier with how this turned out for Zeke and the Jensons.

Ezekiel means God will strengthen. In this story of a little dog named Zeke, I can see how, in God's providence, He rescues and strengthens us in whatever trial we face and whatever struggle we are going through. God makes everything work together for our good and His awesome glory when all is said and done. And he even cares about the welfare of a little dog.

The LORD is good to all; he has compassion on all he has made.

— Psalm 145:9