Last month I was at work when I got a picture from my older son. It was of our little Chihuahua that we had for about eight years. We found him running towards a major intersection. I opened my car door and he came right to me.

We took him to the vet and found out he was chipped, and when the veterinarian’s office called his owners they said he had rabies (which he didn’t) and they couldn’t keep him anymore. That little dog came into our lives just as my husband was leaving ours. He became my children’s most trusted friend. Many days he sat close to them, listening to them as they shared whatever was on their minds with him.

While I was at work my son sent me a picture that said “Look who’s been digging.” Our little dog had mud all over his little nose. I laughed and showed the picture to my co-worker who loves dogs.

By the time I got home that evening I could tell something was very wrong with our dog. He looked very serious, and you could just tell he didn’t feel well.

As the days went on he got sicker and sicker. My son took him to the vet, and he stayed in the dog hospital for a few days. I heard the girls working at the veterinary clinic loved our little dog, filling up their phone memory with pictures of him. My son spent his money he was saving for college on this little guy, never once complaining. He seemed to get slightly better, even eating a little bit. The vet released him. When he came home he seemed to get worse again. He wasn’t eating, and he couldn’t get up to go to the bathroom. When he tried to stand he would fall over, and we had to carry him outside to go potty.

One gloomy day he seemed like his breathing was hard, and my middle son held him on his lap crying. I haven’t seen my son that sad over anything, he isn’t one to show his emotions.

It was Super Bowl Sunday and I took our little dog in my lap and held him. I prayed for him, and he seemed to want to get away from me when he had not even been moving before that. I prayed and declared by Jesus stripes he was healed.

My friend called me after that and asked how our little puppy was doing. I told her “He is going to die.” As soon as I said that I felt The Lord saying “Why are you praying when you don’t have faith that he will be healed?”

And it was true, why was I bothering to pray for our dog, when in my heart I didn’t feel he could be healed?

The next day he seemed worse than ever, and I told my son he needed to take him back to the vet and have him put down. My sons’s girlfriend called the vet and asked what time they closed, and what putting him down entailed.

My son sat outside with our dog because our dog couldn’t control his bowel movements. My son had a bad cold, yet he sat outside, crying and talking to our little dog while he sat on his lap. It got so late that the vet closed, and I told my son that he would have to take him the next morning.

The next day our dog was up, and hungry! He was drinking water and hanging out in the kitchen, and waiting for food.

It says in Romans 4:17 “As it is written, “I have made you the father of many nations” in the presence of the God whom he believed, who gives life to the dead and calls into existence the things that do not exist.”

Also, in Mark 11:23 ESV “Truly, I say to you, Whoever says to this mountain, ‘Be taken up and thrown into the sea,’ and does not doubt in his heart, but believes that what he says will come to pass, will be done for him.”

I believe with my whole heart, that God heard my family’s prayers, and was teaching me to have faith, and to pray with confidence, believing what I was asking for would happen.

Luke 1:37 “For nothing will be impossible with God.”

Update: Our little guy made it another 10 months before he got sick again, and we had to say our goodbyes once again. I am thankful the Lord heard our prayers and gave us more time with him.