While visiting my parents one weekend, I decided to go out for a jog along a two-lane road. I would normally run about a half hour in one direction, turn around and come back. After I got about a half mile into my run, I heard a sound coming from some tall weeds off to the side of the road, which sounded like a dog in distress or pain. I assumed it was a dog that had been hit by a car and was laying in the weeds, dying. I was a little troubled by the thought of that, but continued my run thinking that there was nothing I could do and the dog was probably close to death anyway.
I ran another three miles, then turned around heading back to my parents’ house. While running back, the thought of that dog came back to me. I felt bad about not seeing if I could do something for him. I couldn't get it out of my mind and was wondering if he would still be alive when I got to the spot that I heard the sound coming from. I tried to brush it off by thinking, "That dog is probably dead by now."
The closer I got, the more I thought about him. Finally, I got within hearing range and I could hear the dog whining in pain. He was still alive! This time, I was determined not to run past him again without investigating the dog's condition. I walked down into the tall weeds off the side of the road and what I found startled me. A large, concrete septic tank was behind the weeds. A flimsy, corrugated steel cover was dislodged from the top of the tank and the sound that I was hearing was coming from within the septic tank. I cautiously peered inside and saw a most pitiful sight. A dog had somehow gotten trapped inside the tank and was desperately trying to climb out. The walls of the tank were too steep for him to get a good grip. The sewage inside the tank was over his head and his paws were bloody from him trying to climb his way out. The surface of the sewage in the septic tank was literally crawling with live maggots. When the dog saw me, he cowered in fear, almost to the point of sinking under the muck. I felt a tremendous sense of pity for him come over me, and I extended out the back of my hand for him, hoping that he would not be afraid of me after he smelled my hand.
After he smelled my hand, he closed his eyes and I gently stroked his maggot-covered head. He seemed to get so relaxed that I was afraid he was going to sink under the sewage again. I imagined that he must have been so tired from trying to claw his way out of that septic tank, maybe all night long as far as I knew.
I decided to try and lift him out of the tank. I sank my arms up to my elbows into the muck and gently lifted him up out of the tank. By this time I was weeping, thinking about the parallel of our Lord lifting me up out of the muck of sin I was once in. One time I was like this dog, so deeply mired in sin and couldn't find my way out. I was drowning and death lay before me, but He had mercy on me and lifted me out from death unto Eternal Life.
I set the dog on the ground before me next to a small creek. He looked at me and skipped away from me to the other side of the creek while watching me all the time. I just cried like a baby thinking about these things as I washed my arms from the filth of the septic tank. I got up and finished my run, ending up at my parents’ house. Periodically, I think about this event and wonder if I will ever see that dog again. I then think about Brother Branham seeing his dog, Fritz, beyond the Curtain of Time and the Lord saying to him, "All that you ever loved, and all that ever loved you, God has given to you."
I pray that the Lord will allow me to also see this dog again when I reach the other side.
God bless you.
Your brother in Christ,
David
USA