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I’m back to that “Day to Remember” in Nicaragua.

We’d stopped to learn how to make tortillas. Which would become our lunch.

A small reddish-colored dog caught my eye as we left our ox cart and walked towards the house. His head tilted as if in a friendly welcome.

Then I noticed. Both ears were folded in a funky way. The hanging one was worse.

The poor little thing’s ears were encrusted. Outside and inside. With ticks.

I bent down to scratch the spot all dogs like. The base of the ear. And straightened up fast as he cried.

Right. That meant a bad inner ear infection as well.

We sat down but I kept watching the little dog.

By now I’d named him Spunky.

Spunky was under a low hedge. Reaching for some leaves. And eating them.

How hungry does a dog have to be to eat greenery?

Between his paws a small chicken scrabbled in the dirt. Pecked between his toes.

Spunky would stretch out one paw. Hold down the chicken.  “Gum” around its head. Lick the tiny body.

Not biting, just gumming. As if sharing a game.

The chicken would reach up and peck at something in Spunky’s ear.

I realized what was happening.

Chicky was picking out the fleas between Spunky’s toes and those pesky ticks in his ears.  A battle he could not win.

I’d just witnessed something beautiful.

Help from an unlikely source.

So how about being an unlikely source?

Let’s try and help where help is least expected.

Spunky must’ve sensed something in me. I looked down and two golden brown eyes were begging.

The owner chased him away. Mistakenly thinking the dog was bothering me. I need to believe that’s the reason Spunky scampered around the corner and did not reappear.

If there was any way at all I could’ve brought Spunky with, believe me, I would’ve done so.

This was one time when I was truly helpless.

Not a nice feeling.

And having written about it, I hope I got it out of my system.

Cyber hugs and Blessings All.

Sometimes, sometimes I have the need to read in my mother tongue. The words I learnt so many years ago.

PSALMS 121:1-3 

1 ’n BEDEVAARTSLIED. Ek slaan my oë op na die berge: waar sal my hulp vandaan kom? 2 My hulp is van die Here wat hemel en aarde gemaak het. 3Hy kan jou voet nie laat wankel nie; jou Bewaarder kan nie sluimer nie.

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