Dad and I were walking through the grounds of his gated senior community when he staggered. “Are you okay?” I asked. Dad just stayed quiet—something was wrong. No one else was in sight. I have to get Dad back to his house, I thought. But I didn’t have the strength to keep him steady.
Out of nowhere a large tan and white dog appeared at my father’s side. He must have weighed 100 pounds. Dad put his hand on the dog’s back to steady himself. With the help of that dog we made it home. I got Dad into the backseat of his car and rushed inside to alert Mom and grab the car keys. I stepped back outside and glanced up and down the street, looking for the dog. He was nowhere to be seen. How did he disappear so quickly? I wondered.
Dad stayed the night in the hospital. The next morning I went to the management office of Dad’s community. “Who owns the big, strong tan and white dog?” I asked.
“Large dogs are not permitted here,” the manager said. “Not even to visit. It’s for safety reasons.”
Large dogs weren’t allowed. But there were no restrictions on angels.
