Guideposts Editor-in-Chief Edward Grinnan lost his beloved golden retriever, Millie, to cancer. In this blog post, Edward describes the way Millie took care of him and his house.
I was fast asleep, middle of the night, when I awoke to a golden retriever snout plopping down next to my pillow. Millie. Oh, no, I thought, does she have to go out? Now? It’s pouring rain. As if on cue, the rain did a wind-swept paradiddle on the window.
Millie stood by the bed staring at me, shifting her stance, her manner both urgent and expectant. She was a good dog. She only woke me up like this when she had an emergency.
“Just a sec, Mil,” I mumbled sleepily, grabbing my robe. “I’ll let you out.”
Mille preceded me down the stairs but stopped just two steps from the bottom and stared up at me, then down again at the landing by the back door.
“See?” her eyes seemed to say. “It’s raining inside.”
Read More Heatwarming Animal Stories in Paws from Heaven today!
I did see. The roof had sprung a leak over that area. Not a gusher but the entire landing was soaked. I also finally noticed the wet paw prints on the stairs. I gave my dog an amazed look. How did she know this dripping ceiling was something important enough to wake me up?
“Good girl,” I said. Her eyes followed me as I snatched one of her dog towels off a hook by the door and sopped up the water. Then I found a bucket and positioned it under the leak to catch the drips till morning when I could call a roofer.
Millie seemed satisfied with my work, and we headed upstairs where I climbed back under the covers and Millie lay down on the floor with a contented sigh, as if she knew she had saved the day (or night, at least).
Before falling back to sleep I said a quick prayer of thanks for having been blessed with such a smart dog. That drip could have caused some real damage had it reached an electrical outlet. Thank you for making her so vigilant, Lord. Please keep her that way.
Read More About Millie’s Adventures in Edward’s New Book, Always By My Side
A couple nights later, same thing. Millie got me up with the same sense of urgency. Except it wasn’t raining. This time she led me to the bathroom and sat down in front of the sink. I switched on the night light. There was a very slow drip from the faucet to the basin.
“Really?” I said.
Millie shot me a stern look, as if I were some kind of negligent homeowner. I wanted to tell her it was no big deal but instead I tightened the faucet and put the cap back on the toothpaste while I was at it. Maybe I was a little hasty going to bed.
I was back asleep five minutes later but not before saying another prayer. Thanks, Lord. But maybe a little less vigilant, if that’s okay?
