They Shoot Horses, that is, Dogs, Don’t They?

Abbie and I were out for a walk the other evening and on the way back to the house, we ran into our next-door neighbor, Dona Ester. Had to catch up on all the news around the neighborhood, of course, and in time, the conversation got around to her sister-in-law, who lives one house over. One day recently we remarked to each other that we hadn't seen that neighbor for quite a while, and later that day I had seen her getting into a car, but she was using a walker. I wondered what her problem might have been.

Dona Ester informed us that her sister-in-law was bitten in the calf of her leg by one of their dogs almost two years ago, and it has never healed. The infection went deep, and she even had to have an operation. Even though there is no fever and she doesn't have diabetes, the wounds refuse to heal. The doctors are stumped, but Dona Ester has the solution...kill the dog. "The leg will not heal unless the dog is put down." It's what has been handed down from generation to generation. I was telling Paz, one of the sisters in the church, about this lady, and before I could get to the "punch line", she asked, "Have they killed the dog?"

In the thirty years we've lived here, we've heard so many of the islanders' traditions and superstitions...thought we'd heard them all, but I guess not. Everyone seems to have a story about someone who was bitten by a dog and never recovered as long as the dog was alive. I can't see any logical connection between putting the dog down and the neighbor's leg getting better, but nothing else has worked.

Of course, the world has a problem understanding the logic behind the gospel---a Jew is crucified in Jerusalem almost 2000 years ago, and somehow that makes the difference in the eternal destiny of every human being, even those of us alive today. The short answer is that God's logic isn't our logic; faith accepts even when it can't explain, but that doesn't make the gospel any less true.

While I can't see a scientific explanation for the logic of the people regarding dog bites, on general principles, I think I would have gotten rid of any dog that bit my leg, anyway. I don't know about my leg, but the rest of me would feel better not having that kind of dog around.

Two weeks and counting

Two weeks from today, we fly to Germany. OK, it's only a 1-night layover at Frankfurt before getting the plane to Chicago the next afternoon, but as short as the stay may be, it will still be our first visit to Germany. (Actually, not. We did attend a church in Germany across the border from Salzburg, Austria, back in 1991, but that was just for a few hours, so this still counts as our first real visit to Germany.)

We've been trying to sort out our travel plans for the month we'll be in the US, fitting in the two or three "non-negotiable" dates during that time. One of them is a family reunion with Abbie's folks and some of the family down in Arkansas (where our stateside journey begins) the first weekend of August. August 17 is another one, when Mom will turn 90...but the party will be on Saturday, the 19th, as her birthday falls on Thursday. You'd've thought with all these 90 years getting ready for this birthday, she could have planned it to fall on Saturday. Aunt Easter, Mom's last surviving sister, will be there from Houston. She's only 93 and she loves parties, so much so, that someone is going to have to drive her up to Colorado (1500 miles?) so she won't miss it.

In preparation for our being away, I've just finished installing a watering system for our yard. If it works the way I think it's supposed to, it will automatically water the plants while we're away. A good test will be to see if it keeps them watered the two weeks we're still here, since I figure we're going to have plenty of other things to do besides water the flowers between now and the time we leave.

Probably Just a Coincidince

Over the years, the attendance at our English-language services has always been something of a surprise package each Sunday. We never know who, or how many, or where from. In recent years, with the advent of time share apartments, we begin to see certain brothers and sisters every year or two years at the same time of year. The first 20 years or so, there were no local English-speaking members, so attendance depended totally on tourists visiting the island. While we've had visitors from every European country, and many countries outside Europe, the majority of visitors are from the U.K.; there was an occasional Sunday when no one showed up.

Seven or eight years ago, this changed, when we began to have a core of local English-speaking residents who attended. At the peak, they totalled over 30; presently they number 10 or so, so we're always assured the presence of someone.

Change of scenery:

The World Cup game last Saturday...Portugal vs. England. In a cliff-hanger, the game ends in a draw, 0-0, even after a 30-minute overtime. In the penalty kick shoot-out, Portugal beat England and moved into the semi-final round, to play France on Wednesday.


Back to Scene 1:

English-language service last Sunday---
A total of 15 were present, and Abbie and I felt out of place. We were the only two there who have never lived, or are not currently living, in South Africa. Not one tourist was present, not even an English tourist. Surely the English tourists were not in hiding after the defeat of the previous afternoon...I think it was probably just a coincidence.