Fred

This is the story of a fellow I loved a long time ago named Fred. He's not your ordinary fella and the original Fred is no longer on earth and the love is a beautiful memory.

The story of Fred begins 44 years ago at a boarding school in Africa. Kenya, to be exact.  I was 7 years old. We had just moved to Africa from Oregon. My mother was a missionary and well, I was a missionary kid. Less than a month after our arrival in Kenya, my mom dropped me off at the boarding school. After settling me into my room and helping unpack my clothes and other personal belongings I would need for the next 3 months, she drove away leaving me screaming and crying in the dust stirred up by her retreating car. I don't remember much after that except seeing the dorm parent's son lying on the porch watching me as I'm sure he watched countless other little girls crying in sorrow as their parents drove away.

My early memories of boarding school are blurred. I remember some fun but also remember a lot of sadness, homesickness and a profound sense of being lost. Like I was misplaced. And forgotten.

To add to my feeling of  misplacement, my mom was single having adopted me, a brown skin child. A brown skin little girl holding the hand of a very white woman and calling her mother drew its own set of curious eyes. An odd couple we must have appeared at times.

But this is Fred's story.

At the school we had a "bank". My mom would deposit a certain amount of spending money in my account and each Friday I would line up with the other children to withdraw a sum of money large enough to buy candy and assorted treats from our school store. It was at the school store where I met Fred. I later found out that Fred had been named for Fred the Basset Hound comic strip.

I have always loved animals. Being raised an only child, I had many furry brothers and sisters. So, when I spotted Fred lying on the floor, I was instantly smitten. He had no opinions about my looks, or my abilities, didn't care if I was popular or talented, didn't bother him that I had no dad, he just wanted to be talked to and have his belly scratched. His comical appearance and simple needs brought so much comfort to the sad heart of a homesick, misplaced, lost little girl. I was ministered to, and comforted by, a dog. A funny looking Basset Hound named Fred. Seeing Fred was the highlight of my first weeks at school. I told myself then that when I grew up, I was going to have a Basset Hound and name him Fred. Time went on, I eventually  no longer saw Fred and after awhile he and the promise I made to myself, faded into the background of growing older and moving back and forth between countries and eventually marriage and children.

I never completely forgot about Fred, or my dream of having my own Fred. Occasionally through the years I would tell my children about that long-ago Fred and tell them someday I'm going to have a Basset Hound and name him Fred. Bassets aren't that common and in the rare instance I would see one, my mind was instantly taken back to that lonely time when that funny little dog brought me so much peace. I collected the occasional Basset magnet. Every once in awhile while riding in the car I would tell my husband  "there's a little Basset Hound out there.... waiting to be mine. His name is Fred". 

God never forgot either.

In June of 2010, my husband Rollie took me to our favorite Mexican restaurant. I remember sitting on the stool beside him laughing when he suddenly took his phone out and said "I have something to tell you". He then went on to tell me that someone at work sent out an email saying they had Basset Hound puppies for sale. He showed me a picture of a basket of Basset Hound puppies.  I started crying. I knew that if he was telling me this, he had already decided to buy me a puppy. And I knew my little Fred was in that basket.  I could hardly breathe I was so overwhelmed. And then, being the worrier I am, I panicked that they were already all gone and wanted Rollie to call the guy right now! He reassured me that he didn't think they were gone yet as the email had just gone out that day.

Basket of Puppies--we think Fred is the one looking away.

We pick this one! Fred.

Later that month, we went and picked up the little boy puppy we had picked out. We took the kitty kennel along for him to ride in. He cried all the way home. But he came home. After 39 years, Fred came home. He made his home in our home after making his home in my heart so long ago.

Fred at 7 weeks old.

The healing God has done through Fred is beautiful, and perfect. Through this dog He reminded me He was there for me and with me all those years ago. He reminded me I wasn't forgotten nor was I ever misplaced. He knew where I was, what my name was and most importantly, He knew and remembered my dreams. He reconciled the little girl with the adult woman. A circle was completed by Him giving Fred to me.

Today, that goofy, slobbery, stubborn stinky little Basset Hound named Fred, is 5 years old.
Happy Birthday, Fred.Thank You, God. For never forgetting.