This is a story of a moment in time, but one that covers 30+ years of our marriage...and a few migrations in Virginia ending with all of us in Alabama.

In the beginning there was Kirby, the crazy Springer Spaniel burdened with "Spaniel rage". He was with us in Northern Virginia for more than a year. Then there was Bainbridge, the black 9 yo male Cocker Spaniel rescue whose divorced people abandoned him. We moved west to a small town, my home town, about two hours west of DC. He was joined in our home by the "blonde", a female Cocker Spaniel who we rescued from a Baltimore puppy mill. They both lived to be 14 & 13 respectively and passed in the home they knew!

After a short time without dogs, we took a gamble on another Springer, a gift from a wonderful kennel whose owners needed a home for a returned placement and thought we needed a new companion as they, knowing our story, believed we were ready for a new forever friend. So, Tucker joined us there and for our trip the wilderness of Central Alabama.

There Tucker learned the difference between suburban and rural. We explored a lot of our 30 acre tract together - mostly on a retractable leash. One evening sitting up on the the hill with my wife, he saw his first "cat". I grabbed his collar and told him to "stay". You see, this was not a tabby - this cat was larger, tawny in color, had a tail as thick as my wrist and walked purposefully, with a natural grace. We believe, while having no photos, it was a mountain lion going from Florida to Louisiana as they are/were known to range through this region. He survived that episode, but very sadly passed due to a copperhead bite (we think), laying on his bed, watching the sunset...

Life moved forward and so began a new chapter and a different kind of "adoption".

As I was driving to the volunteer fire department where I served, as I stopped for a stop sign, a bitty dog ran out from a culvert and began to run circles around my truck. I called my wife and asked, "if I open the door and he jumps in, can I bring him home?" This began the saga of Skippy and our assorted stray dogs. He was a terrier "mix"...but that doesn't begin to cover it. As we told folks about our "find", they instructed us about the world of "dog dumping". That's a story for another day. Skippy had the run of the place after a while. He was happy, independent and loved! After a bit, on a hot August afternoon, three "bigger" dogs showed up. They had no collars, no "papers", they were their own "pack". We we cautious of them because they were big dogs. We watered them, then we fed them, then we patted their heads as they began to be comfortable with us. Then we introduced them to Skippy...with him on a leash so we could "reel him in" if they thought him an attractive morsel! Four male dogs - what could go wrong.

So, they became a "band of brothers". Skippy fancied himself a "big" dog now. They (Larry, Mo & Curly) taught him the ways of the wild - they became their own, larger pack now. Then winter came.

One night, with temperatures forecast to be very low, we were able to, by cunning, God's help and force of will, get curly & Mo inside our home with Skippy. Larry, the more aloof member of the crew, ran off, never to be found. We hoped he found a girlfriend and/or a new warm home. My wife sat in her chair all night, keeping an eye on everyone. I went to bed. She woke up later with Mo standing next to her chair, with his huge head close to her, eyeing her.

BTW, have I mentioned that Mo was/is a 100+# part Mastiff with a brindle coat and his buddy Curly was part Pit Bull, both of which scared my wife to death at first. Now Mo is her buddy. Skippy ran off one day and never returned. Curly was stricken with an unknown illness a passed suddenly. So that left Mo as the last dog standing.

During the sequence from a solo Skippy to a solo Mo we moved from 800 sq. ft. of manufactured housing to a 440 sq. ft. cottage (w/120 sq. ft. loft) - the two of us, now both open-heart surgery survivors plus 3 dogs! We have a cherished photo of the three of them, laying on the floor on a Sunday, listening to a live stream from our church.

So now Mo has lost four brothers. It's been more than a year. He's learned to ride in a car (reluctantly) as we were finally able to make an appointment and afford a neutering surgery, along with a battery of vaccinations, for him. We walked the woods together. We patted his head. He got all of our attention. But he was the only dog. Last Summer that began to change.

One day, as we were driving out, we saw a single dog, at least that's what we thought we saw. Lanky, odd color, fast...a little skittish. We discovered he was an "intact" male. That caused us some concern - two males, one large, the other larger, one intact one not. Didn't seem like a promising mix. But we tried - to find reasons to chase him off, to not give him water, to ignore him, to give reasons to leave...but they didn't work.

We sought advice from canine professionals about our prospects for adding "him" to our family. We heard everything from "disaster" to "possible" to "can be done with a lot of work". The three of us discussed this while still watering, now feeding and talking to "him" - the dog with no name...yet.

The first time Mo & Luke saw each other Luke jumped into the trunk of the car as Mo was wondering "what's this"? The next time neither one was on a leash and Mo ended up with his maw around Luke's neck. Mo released him and obeyed when I told him "sit!". Luke ran off. The next time Mo kind of ignored him and Luke wasn't sure what to do.

We decided to have Luke neutered & vaccinated, not sure it was in our budget but knowing it would make him easier to adopt as we were planning to give him up. Have you noticed we'd "kinda" named him.

Luke loves to ride in cars. He knows how to sit. He offers both paws uninvited but he has a stubborn streak - even obstinate.

Mo was getting a little "pudgy", missing running with a buddy. Luke is frisky, to say the least. Luke thinks Mo's legs are good chew toys but Mo lets him know when enough is enough. They play, chase and roam together...and now Mo is getting his exercise. They have separate beds but share when it suits them. They have their moments but they both know the pecking order...

Last weekend we thought Luke had run off or that the coyotes had gotten him. The sun set, then 9:00, then 10:00, then 11:00 - no Luke. Midnight came and went and still no Luke. This was feeling more and more like Larry and Skippy, who once was AWOL for two days.

Sunday morning we looked outside as we were getting ready for church, hoping and praying for his return...and there he was, tucked under the bed of my truck. He came out limping. We noticed immediately that his right rear leg was hanging limp, almost touching the ground. Being a volunteer firefighter/medical responder, I knew about using a towel/sheet as a lifting aid. We got him inside and that's where this prelude ends and our need begins.

We couldn't afford an emergency pet vet. Nearest one is 50 miles either direction and which one do we pick? We'd been to church and returned home by now. Rebekah was packing clothes and special meals, going an hour away to spend the next two+ days helping with her Mom's care, as she does every week. Except for getting ideas, prayer & encouragement, that left me to be the "hands & feet" in this moment.

After two days of phone calls, advice, consults and a visit to a generous, kind, sweet, merciful higher-end veterinarian hospital in Montgomery, this is where we are with Luke.

The x-rays they took show a significant fracture of his (RR) femur with an adjacent piece of bone in there. He has an abrasion on his right shoulder. Beyond that, there are no open lacerations or abrasions. His major organs are working well, as observed. He's urinated a had a bowel movement (now several). He's drinking water and eating. Our apparent options were as follows -

Repair the break - $3,000 +

Amputate the leg - $2,800

Euthanasia - less than the above

Never being one that accepts pricing as delivered and also trying to be transparent throughout this process, we explained our circumstance and our family's need. We have found a local, qualified and respected Doctor who has offered to perform the amputation that normally ranges from $1,500-$2,000 for a fee of $1,000. We were hoping for somewhere around half of that but that is a generous offer we're going to accept. So, at the completion of the surgery, with yesterday's diagnostics, we'll have an out-of-pocket expense of $1,300 or so.

While my wife hasn't seen this yet, Mo and I took Luke for a walk this morning. We went about 100 yards downhill then uphill, out to the edge of the woods he's used to exploring. He navigated the terrain very well on three legs. When he first came home Sunday, having limped, hopped and wobbled for a quarter of a mile, we used the nearly completed ramp I'm building for me and my wife so he wouldn't have to use the steps.

Today he came up four steps with good balance and pace. His digestive system is functioning and yesterday's vet visit affirmed good cardiac and pulmonary function. The look in his eyes and his smile complete the story.

We're going to negotiate an unsecured (higher interest) loan for the required amount. Any attendant prescriptions, supplies, etc. we'll attempt to absorb.

Any amount we are blessed with beyond our immediate need, we will donate to appropriate pet care organizations.

We know this has been a longer read. Perhaps you've seen your own story or emergent opportunity in our experiences. Hear this loud & clear -

We have been blessed in every (every step!) step of this journey. Through the folks we've met, the questions & answers, the laughs & smiles, through the tears & fears we have felt the hand, the love and very presence of our Lord. And right now, we trust Him and His people to help us meet our pressing needs. Hallelujah!