God and Bedlington Terriers

This is one of my favorite grace note stories of the past two weeks.

My dad was an artist. A great one. His artwork is easily identified according to which decade of the 60's to the early 2000's he did it in. For many, many years he worked as a fashion illustrator, drawing the ads for stores like Lord and Taylor and Woodword and Lothrop (Woodies). In fact, as a kid, since his studio was in the apartment, I would model for him if he needed additional shots of what the merchandise looked like.

At any rate, when I was about ten he had an ad to to for Lord and Taylor in which he was to include Bedlington Terriers. Now these are pretty unusual dogs; they look almost like sheep in their faces especially. I had never seen one before, but became intrigued by them, and soon I was also drawing Bedlington Terriers. In fact, recently when I was going through our storage room (readers who have been with me a while saw those photos...yikes! soon to be what my garage looks like once again...)I found a drawing I had done at the same time, complete with Bedlington Terrier.

At any rate, my dad always wanted to make sure he portrayed things accurately and had researched the Bedlington Terrier, and had done such a good job that someone from the Westminster Dog Show contacted him lauding him on his wonderful rendition of Bedlingtons, which not only seemed to portray their appearance but also their temperament. Just a few weeks later my dad and I were guests at the Westminster Dog Show courtesy of the club to hang out with these dogs ourselves. It was great. I remember really being taken by the pooches and begging, as most ten year olds do anyway, to please, please have a dog. No go. But I did love the dogs, and they held a very special place in my heart, and a special bond that had formed between me and my dad. I haven't seen one since. As I said, they aren't exactly your garden variety mutt.

The day after my dad died, I had a number of details to attend to and places to go, so I walked. I walked cross town, past my elementary school, and down to walk by the building where my dad had fallen. I wanted, yet didn't want to see the stairs.

I arrived at the building, a brownstone on East 74th street, and God in His mercy and omniscience knew I wasn't ready to see those stairs quite yet. The doors were locked and the shades drawn, and I left after pausing briefly to sit on the outside steps.

I crossed the street and continued to walk when I noticed a man walking his dog. The distinctive look of the Bedlington Terrier made me catch my breath, and I asked the guy, even though he was talking on his cell phone, just to be sure. He nodded that indeed it was a Bedlington and I proceeded on my way, but not without bursting into tears.

I paused, wiping my eyes, and turned around to look at the man and the dog one more time, but they were nowhere in sight. But they had been there just at the moment I needed them. A grace note sent from above.

May your day be filled with grace as well.