Rescuing Luigi

READ: ROMANS 8:1-4, 38-39; COLOSSIANS 1:13 We waited outside the pole barn on a brisk winter morning to meet our new foster dog. Cheryl, the head of the animal shelter, brought the little terrier out to us. Nearly furless, the dog cowered at the end of his leash. “Poor thing,” Cheryl said. “He’s spent the last six years in a small pen outside with little human contact. He had so many mats, the groomer had to shave him down to his skin.” We named the dog Luigi and went about the challenging job of housetraining him for a future adoptive family. In the first few weeks, the twelve-pound terror dug through the garbage, jumped up on the dinner table, had accidents in the house, and snarled at us. But as the months went by, Luigi began to scratch at the door to go outside. He laid down on the floor while we ate dinner and even snuggled with us for family movie nights. One night, Cheryl called to tell us she’d found a permanent home for Luigi. After a family meeting, we cal...