One day my husband and I had to put our dog to sleep.  He had come from the pound here in Las Vegas, and his name was Pierre. The dog had been with us for several years, and losing him was extremely painful.  

I insisted that we not spend time mourning as we had done with our other animals we had lost. My suggestion was that we go to the pound, where we had first met Pierre, and look for another dog to replace his presence.

Fortunately, my husband agreed that I was probably correct. We are both on in age, and now is not the time to put things off, so we got into our car and headed for the pound.

Upon arriving there, we spent several hours looking through the stalls where the homeless dogs are kept, and my husband kept insisting that we get a large dog this time.

I, on the other hand, wanted another small dog like Pierre.  

We looked and looked, but for some reason, no dog appeared to be the creature for whom we were desperately searching.  

Over the years we have always had a dog in our lives. On the day my husband first came to my apartment in Illinois, he had left his two best friends downstairs waiting for him. One of them was a Golden Retriever, and the other was an Alaskan Malamute. These two dogs became integral to our relationship, and when we decided to take a trip across the country, the two dogs came with us.  

Returning to the saga of how we found our present dog friend, I must share that, had someone told me of a similar experience, I would have difficulty believing them.  

We inevitably gave up looking for the right dog that day. Oddly enough, a young woman drove up as we were walking back to our car. She got out of her car holding a reddish dog, just the size we were looking for. Something made me speak to her.  

I told her of our loss, and why we were there, asking her why she was at the pound.  She explained that she had found the dog roaming in the street and just couldn't take care of it. She was bringing it to the pound to find it a home.  

In light of what she had said, I asked her if she would consider letting us take the dog, as we had lost our dog. She had no problem with that question, and she happily handed me the dog, who jumped right into the front seat of our car.  

For some reason we had experienced a miracle, and, before we knew it, were driving home with a replacement for Pierre. We named her Miracle in light of how we found her. She is a Karen Terrier, and is the apple if my husband's eye. God truly blessed us.