Webster’s No. 6 meaning of the word “Lost” says, having wandered from the way; uncertain as to ones location.

It is easy to get lost. I got lost when I was training to be a private pilot. On my solo cross- country flight, I went from McMinnville to Fayetteville without a problem. I got my logbook signed and took off for Mt. Pleasant. I got lost. I panicked. Everything looked the same down below. I thought, “I’ll run out of fuel; a thousand things crossed my mind.”

Then my instructions came to mind – land at the nearest airport you see and then find out where you are and make a new flight plan.

I saw a runway and made a safe landing. I wanted to save face so I told the lady attendant there, “It is good to be in Hohenwald.” She said, “This is Centerville.”

I confessed I was on my student solo cross-country flight and I WAS LOST.

On Sunday, August 18, 2013 about 3:00 p.m., I discovered a beautiful brown puppy that was shivering and it was so scared. It turned out to be only five weeks old. It was by the side of my house and my dog discovered the puppy about the same time I did.   

The puppy found an opening large enough under our steps to go under our deck. The deck is built on a slope and is very close to the ground where the steps are. I called Ruby, my wife. The pup would come close enough for us to see its head under the steps but would not come out.

What a beautiful, healthy-looking puppy with a big “bull” looking head. We decided it must belong to a neighbor, as no one would drop a puppy like this.    

We put food near the steps and tied our dog. Soon the pup would come far enough to reach the food and then back under the steps again.

A little while later Ruby came carrying the puppy wrapped up in a towel out to the little store where I had gone. It was still shaking. Ruby went on to church later. The pup came back to the store looking for her and came inside the door crying. It seemed to say, “Where is my friend?”

Ruby came home from church and said Patsy Tate told her that her neighbor Tim Spicer, the Highway Patrolman, had lost a little brown puppy. I’m sure his daughters, Gracie and Ana, were heartbroken.

We called Tim’s mother-in-law to report this. She said, “Does it have a bull head?” I said, “Yes” and in no time flat, this big 250 pound, six foot four inch man was here.

He crawled about thirty feet under the deck toward the area where “Duke” was hunkered down. Shortly he said, “I’ve got him.”

He had brought a large tall plastic tub to haul “Duke” home in, and as Tim thanked us, he must have said four or five times, “I know two little girls that are going to be happy.”

“Duke, with those little short legs, traveled almost a mile down that dangerous highway since Saturday night.

As I thought how the Prodigal Son’s father kept hugging and kissing his son and then prepared a Feast of Celebration, I thought of the Scripture in Luke 15:4-7, “What man of you, having a hundred sheep, if he lose one of them doth not leave the ninety and nine in the wilderness, and go after that which is lost, until he find it? And when he hath found it, he layeth it on his shoulders, rejoicing. And when he cometh home, he calleth together his friends and neighbors, saying unto them, Rejoice with me; for I have found my sheep which was lost. I say unto you, that likewise joy shall be in heaven over one sinner that repenteth, more than over ninety and nine just person, which need no repentance.”

If you have strayed from your Heavenly Father, go back home now. RIGHT NOW. You may not be as lucky as “Duke.” You may get run over on the highway.

I imagine “Duke” quit shivering and shaking and went to sleep in the loving arms of those two little girls. Let’s hope “Duke” learned a valuable lesson.

Don Hill, Beersheba Springs

Posted on Tuesday, August 27, 2013 at 2:51 pm