In 2011, when my family abandoned me; when I was alone and desperately trying to hold on to a job; when I was more depressed than anyone could imagine--begging for the pain
to end-- I surrendered all.
After an exhausting day of teaching, I looked forward to the mindless, one hour drive to my home in a nearby city. Instead of taking
my usual route on the busy interstate, I found myself on the deserted, two-lane road known as the old highway. Glancing in my rear-view mirror I noticed an older car, black with tinted windows, riding my bumper. The car “hung on” relentlessly to
the back of my car, around curves, over railroad tracks and soon, my irritation became panic. I made a quick decision to turn off the old highway at the very next driveway or intersection. In those few seconds, I felt guided by an unseen power. A few more
miles—spotting a gravel driveway on the right---I turned into an abandoned church parking lot. I immediately felt relieved when the old car sped past me.
one side of the driveway something caught my attention and, after parking the car, I went back to investigate. Almost hidden among thick, tall weeds was a large puppy, completely wrapped in wire. The brindle-colored dog was alarmingly-thin and covered with
swarming flies, deer ticks, and maggots. Most alarming was the fresh blood dripping from open wounds on his head. One of his ears hung loosely, as if cut by a sharp object and he panted rapidly in the 100 degree heat. There was no way to tell how long the
poor dog had been in a crouched position--- unable to sit, lie down, or stand---- due to the wire’s razor-sharp barbs. Obviously dehydrated, the starving animal was suffering in the severe heat and needed immediate medical attention.
About a mile down the road, I found a general store. After buying wire cutters and heavy gloves, I hurried back to free my trapped friend. Cutting the deadly wire wasn’t
easy and I didn’t know how the dog would react once he was free. But, I wasn’t alone. Just as an unseen power had directed me to this spot and guided my heart---the same power also guided my hands. Several weeks later, after more than
one thousand dollars-worth of complicated surgeries, medications for infection, and blood transfusions--- Cubby Bear became my new and forever, best friend.
I rescued Cubby, he weighed thirty pounds and the veterinarian estimated he was nine months old. Now, eleven years later, Cubby weighs more than one hundred fifteen pounds and is adored by all who meet him! Cubby is beautiful-- with a strong personality--
but he’s also very kind and gentle. Cubby has such a caring heart and he loves my kitty cats. Best of all, Cubby loves me.
Driving on the old highway
that August day, heartbroken and wanting my life to end, I found Cubby Bear.