Lost Chickens and Barfing Dogs

During my pregnancy with Vander I had a lot of bad days.  I was depressed.  One of those days came back to me this evening as I was hunting chickens.

I had been having horrible heartburn.  AWFUL!  I couldn't sleep at night because I would wake up gagging on inhaled, burning stomach acid in my lungs.  So I'd talked to the OBGYN nurse and asked if I could take Prilosec, since it worked so well before.  Only, this new doctor said Prilosec was not proven safe for pregnancy and didn't want me to take it.  He prescribed something else.  I picked it up from the pharmacy ($30 later) and came home to take it.  Only, it was Prilosec!  They'd called in the wrong thing!  And now I was out $30, couldn't return it, had yet to pay for my real medication, and didn't have my medication!  I made some calls and went back to get it but then my insurance wouldn't approve it without prior authorization and it cost over $100 without insurance.  I sat down in Walmart and bawled, just BAWLED in the toothpaste aisle.  The doctor's office was closed for the weekend, so I would have to suffer through until Monday.

Back at home, I was rushing to prepare for my Relief Society President to visit.  She had made an appointment to come over and talk to me about my calling.  I was dreading this visit because I knew I'd been slacking, knew I stunk at being the Self-Reliance and Emergency Prep Specialist.  I knew she was coming to "fire" me.  And I hated to be a failure.  As I was trying to straighten up a little for her visit, I found a bottle of pills on the floor.  It was my Prilosec, and Tavi had chewed it open and EATEN IT while I was gone.  And now my dog was going to die.

-ding dong-

I opened the door to a smiling Sister Vonnie Coombs.  She asked, "How are you, Sandi?"  And my fake smile disappeared and I started sobbing.  I told her what was wrong and she jumped into action, helping me count pills.  It appeared that he'd eaten 32 of them.  I called the vet, who recommended I bring the dog in right away.  Vonnie offered to watch Annalee so I could go.  Then I remembered that there had been two bottles of pills.  I found the other one, unopened, and realized that Tavi had only eaten 2 pills.  I called the vet back and he recommended that we induce vomiting.  So Vonnie held Tavi so I could force hydrogen peroxide down his throat.  Then she sat with me on the edge of the bathroom tub, chatting with me as if waiting for your dog to barf was the most natural thing in the world.

She told me that she could see I was stressed and unhappy, and said she had a different calling for me and wondered if I would like it.  She asked me to be the RS Choir Director, which meant that once every three months I would prepare a song for the whole RS to sing in Sacrament Meeting and rehearse them during music time in RS.  It was the perfect calling for me: low maintenance and in tune with my interests.  And the way she offered it let me accept without feeling like a failure at my old calling.

Tavi threw up twice and then Vonnie left.

I have never forgotten that kindness.

I thought of it again tonight when I was wandering around a neighborhood, freezing my extremities off in a wind far colder than it has any right to be in March.  I had been visiting teaching one of my ladies and when my kids went out to play with her chickens they accidentally let the dog out too, which scared one of the chickens into flying over the fence.  We didn't discover this for several minutes and by that time we had no idea what fence she had flown over or where she could be.  It was already past my kids' dinner and bedtimes (it was the only time my lady could meet) so it was absolutely not convenient for me to be hunting a rogue chicken.  I peered over fences, rang doorbells, sneaked into backyards, drove around, and prayed and prayed that with all the other problems this sweet sister was going through we would not add the loss of her beloved mother chicken to them.  Annalee prayed that we would find the chicken quickly (because she was hungry) and that it would let us catch it.  As I roved farther and farther, the thought came to me that she had to be close to home, hiding somewhere.  Sure enough, the sister found her under a storage shed.

I am so grateful that God cares about lost chickens and barfing dogs and the people who love them.