Dreams are renewable. No matter what our age or condition, there are still untapped possibilities within us and new beauty waiting to be born. There is a fountain of youth: it is our minds, our talents, the creativity we bring to our lives and the lives of people we love.

When we learn to tap this source, we will truly defeat age. Catherine Moore shared a story how her father had been saved from depression by pet therapy, a type of psychotherapy for treating depression and other mood disorders. Being around pets appears to feed the soul, promoting a sense of emotional connectedness and overall well-being.

We can’t help getting older but we don’t have to get old. Yes growing old is inevitable but growing up is optional.

Her father had been a lumberjack and enjoyed being outdoors and had taken pleasure in pitting his strength against the forces of nature. The shelves in his house were filled with trophies that attested to his powers.

Four days after his sixty-seventh birthday, the father had a heart attack but survived. However, something inside him died. His zest for life was gone. He obstinately refused to follow doctor’s orders and suggestions and offers of help were turned aside with sarcasm and insults.

Catherine and her husband, Dick, asked him to live with them on their small farm. However, nothing seemed satisfactory, he criticized everything.

In the end, it's not the years in your life that count. It's the life in your years. -Abraham Lincoln
They even sought the help of their pastor but months wore on and God was silent. Catherine decided to call the mental health clinics listed in the Yellow Pages. Fortunately, someone described to her a remarkable study done at a nursing home for patients who were under treatment for chronic depression; that their attitudes had improved dramatically when they were given responsibility for a dog. She decided to look into it.

At the animal shelter, a uniformed officer led Catherine to the kennels (dog houses) and as she neared the last pen (dog exercise area) a dog in the shadows of the far corner struggled to his feet, walked to the front of the run and sat down. It was a pointer, one of the dog world’s aristocrats. Years had etched his face and muzzle with shades of gray. His hipbones jutted out in lopsided triangles. But it was his eyes that caught and held her attention.. Calm and clear, they beheld her unwaveringly. The officer said that his time was up the following day.

She took the pointer home and excitedly presented her prize to her dad but he was not interested, saying, “If I had wanted a dog I would have gotten one. And I would have picked out a better specimen than that bag of bones. Keep it! I don’t want it”

Anger rose inside her when suddenly, the pointer pulled free from her grasp, wobbled toward the old man and sat down in front of him. Then slowly, carefully, he raised his paw.

The father's lower jaw trembled as he stared at the uplifted paw. Confusion was in his eyes. The pointer waited patiently. Then he was on his knees hugging the animal.

It was the beginning of a warm and intimate friendship. The father named the pointer Cheyenne. Together he and Cheyenne explored the community. They spent long hours walking down dusty lanes. They spent reflective moments on the banks of streams, angling for tasty trout. They even started to attend Sunday services together.

They were inseparable throughout the next three years. The father's bitterness faded, and he and Cheyenne made many friends. Then late one night Catherine was startled to feel Cheyenne’s cold nose digging through their bed covers. She ran into her father’s room and found that his spirit had left quietly sometime during the night.

Two days later her shock and grief deepened when she discovered Cheyenne lying dead beside her dad’s bed.... As Catherine and Dick buried him near a favorite fishing hole, she silently thanked the dog for the help he had given in restoring her dad's peace of mind.

At her dad’s funeral, Catherine was surprised to see the many friends her father and Cheyenne had made filling the church. The pastor's eulogy was a tribute to both the father and the dog that had changed his life. And then the pastor turned to Hebrews 13:2. “Do not neglect to show hospitality to strangers, for by this, some have entertained angels without knowing it.” “I’ve often thanked God for sending that angel,” he said.

God closes doors no man can open and God opens doors no man can close. Even if we do not need God to open some doors for us, pass it on anyway and  always be grateful for all His blessings. To have God on our side doesn't mean sailing on a boat with no storms, it means having a boat that no storm can sink!

By Tim Pedrosa

Now  playing: Memory

The secret of genius is to carry the spirit of the child into old age, which means never losing your enthusiasm. ~Aldous Huxley

Tim