Who Rescued Who: Introduction to Little Man
As we are making our way through the journal entries for my time in the fiery furnace, we are approaching the part that scorched me the deepest—the loss of Little Man. To understand the weight of that loss, I need to first introduce you to him. Little Man wasn’t just a pet. He was God’s provision, sent at a time when my heart was hardened and my spirit was the darkest.
This is the story of how a little dog became a big part of my life, growth, and healing process—and how, through him, God began the work of softening my heart and drawing me back to Himself.
God Sent Me Little Man
I yanked back on the leash and jerked my already frightened dog in an attempt to get him to stop his exasperating tugging. He stopped for a quick second, then proceeded to pull while panting heavily and keeping his tail tightly wrapped between his legs. This was the pattern of our daily walks. He was scared of trash cans, the wind, anything and everything. I had to warn people not to touch him. I was fuming by the end of our walks, always so angry and sometimes tempted to hurt him. Something was wrong with me.
My fiancée wanted a dog, so I indulged him, thinking maybe this would help our relationship. I found what looked like the right dog for us on Petfinder.com—a housebroken, two years old, tan, Chihuahua and Basenji mix named Little Man. My fiancée went on his own to meet Little Man at the foster home that had taken him in after he was found wandering on I-10, one of the major highways in New Orleans, by a young boy who was able to rescue him from oncoming traffic. He came back and reported Little Man was skittish but cute—he thought, in time, Little Man would make a good dog, although he might have been abused in the past. I trusted his opinion, and we proceeded to adopt Little Man.
Maybe a week after my fiancée’s visit, Little Man’s foster mom dropped him off at our apartment. My initial interaction with Little Man was when he tried to bite my face when I first held him. He scared me, and I dropped him on the floor. Fortunately, He was not hurt. He hid under the coffee table quickly and wouldn’t let me touch him. He rarely left that spot, for the first couple of days with us, no matter how much I tried to coax him out. The first attempt to put his leash on was brutal, as he kept trying to bite me.
What’s Wrong with Me?
During one of our walks, soon after we had adopted him, I stopped and broke down into tears. A lot had gone wrong in my life the last few years, and the darkness brewing inside of me was apparent in my anger, impatience, and frustration toward this helpless, frightened, and needy animal. He required love, patience, tenderness, and compassion—did I no longer possess those qualities? Who had I become?
I looked at him through my teary vision, still tugging on the leash. He was nervous, filled with fear, and without any attachment or trust in me. This just wouldn’t do. I had adopted him; he was my responsibility, and I needed to change my attitude toward him in order to provide him with what he required—a safe, loving, and healthy environment for him to thrive and become a loyal, fun, and loving pet.
At that moment, I committed to him that I would provide him with what he needed and work on what was wrong with me while I did that.
Shortly after committing to change, my fiancée mentioned he wanted to return Little Man to his foster mom.
“He’s not much of a dog.” He complained.
Little Man was, in fact, not socialized at all. He didn’t do anything I expected a dog to do. He didn’t welcome us home, follow us around the house, play, or come around looking for a petting. When he stopped hiding under the coffee table, he continued to ignore us and lay on the carpet, undeterred by our coming and going.
“We can’t give him back,” I replied. “I made him a promise to put in some work to build his trust and show him love. He needs us.” I stopped short of saying, “I need him.”
A few months later, when my fiancée walked out of our lives, Little Man was well on his way to being my snuggling buddy, listening ear, and loyal companion. It took digging deep to find the patience to sit with him to develop trust between us—to stop pulling back on his leash and allow him to be scared while he developed some confidence in his environment during our walks.
It took extra work to call him over when I went to different parts of the house, but he started listening and obeying when called and saw the benefits of following and being around me. I petted him every chance I had so he would learn to love it.
While I worked with him, I worked on myself. I became more aware of all the feelings of anger, aggravation, and impatience that surfaced constantly and consumed me. This came before I began to be exposed to the sermons from Dr. Stanley and Joyce Meyer. I know that Little Man coming into my life prepared me to receive Jesus. God used Little Man to show me how ugly my negativity and anger had become and how dark my soul was.
Little Man Softened My Heart
I had Little Man for 12 years. It took two years for him to come to trust me so that when he was afraid, he would run to me instead of away from me. My commitment and promise to him are the greatest and most significant ones I’ve made and kept so far. Having him was the start of softening my heart and teaching me to be responsible for and care about someone else.
Like me, he was a champ at adjusting to new environments, which was good because he traveled everywhere with me. He traveled all over Europe, flying there and back twice. Little Man traveled more than most human beings. He crossed the U.S. multiple times and was my partner on my epic trip across Canada. He was low maintenance and didn’t require much more than food, water, and love. In whatever new home, hotel, or campsite we found ourselves, he excitedly welcomed me back and tried to steal more space in bed than he needed.
He was more loyal to his stomach than to anything or anyone. I came home one day to a trail of M&Ms that led from one bedroom where I kept my hiking gear, along the hallway, into the living room. Little Man had found and eaten over half a bag of tail mix, including raisins. He also once ate a chocolate oatmeal cookie he found in my purse. Surprisingly, neither the raisins nor the chocolate ever caused him problems, although they gave me a good scare. Attempting to steal food from my stepmom’s Chow did, however, come close to costing him his life. I figured that someday his gluttony would likely kill him, but that’s not what I lost him to.
Little Man became socialized to me and reflected my isolation from people. It wasn’t until I began to open up and let people into my life that he became friendlier to people.
God prepared me ahead of time of taking him from me. Before God took him, He told me it was time for me to fully graduate from caring for and loving Little Man to caring for and loving people. Little Man had been my training wheels, and now that I was ready, God was taking him to Heaven.
Little Man came into my life when I had little left to give and no idea how much I needed rescuing. I would look at him and feel overwhelmed with love for him; he was instrumental in breaking through the initial barriers of my hardened heart–losing him was one of the greatest pains I’ve known. I still don’t know who rescued whom, but I know God sent him to me.