About fourteen years ago, a psychic mentioned that he sensed the presence of a dog around me. One day, two years later, I got off my bus and saw a German Shepherd mixed breed on the sidewalk beside me. She looked at me with a deja-vu expression and then proceeded to walk into the busy highway. A car grazed her nose and, to my horror, a van skidded and hit her on the hind leg. Neither the car nor the van bothered to stop.

The dog walked back to me on the sidewalk. She seemed OK and proceeded to follow me home. On the way, I said to the dog, "I am going to name you Lucky." The vet who examined her thought that Lucky was about two years old and altered, and he determined that her leg was not broken. I tried to find Lucky's owners but she had no ID and I was happy to keep her.

Over the years, Lucky proved to be very intelligent and loyal and became a loving member of the family. She was company for my mother and me, especially when my daughter went off to college. When my daughter came home for school breaks, Lucky would greet her with much excitement and sleep in front of her door.

Last Thanksgiving I noticed a lump on Lucky's bottom. When the vet examined her, he said it was mass cell cancer. I knew she didn't have much time left and tried to make her final days special. Lucky loved to go to a mercantile store and to shop around at the neighborhood bread store for a free slice of bread with butter. I remember how she lay in front of the Christmas tree for two hours while I decorated it. When she became ill and listless, my mother and I sat with her in a loving vigil until it was necessary to put her to sleep three days later. Lucky developed complications from the cancer that made her hind legs useless.

The night after Lucky died, I prayed that I would have a sign that she was safe and OK. I missed her terribly and the house was so empty without her sleeping by the doorway. I always follow the same routine every morning on work days. The next morning I got up, got dressed for work and walked down the hallway. To my amazement, I saw Lucky in
full color walk four steps into the kitchen. I called out, "Lucky!" but she did not look back at me. A moment later, she disappeared. I was about eight feet away in the hallway and could only see her from behind. She didn't have on her collar which was removed before she was put to sleep.

I believe my love for Lucky helped her energy materialize for a brief second so that she could let me know that she was OK. Seeing my beloved dog after her death has given me peace, comfort and spiritual renewal.

Diane Stuart
Please respond to john@beyondreligion.com

Posted Feb. 16th, 2005