I once again find myself with too much on my plate and not enough time to do it. Prayers are needed.

I received a call from a young lady who told me her Chihuahua had been attacked for the third time and she was out of money to help her. My first thought was, “Why wasn’t animal control called?” The young lady sounded so desperate and I figured that since Christmas is near I would see what I could do. 

“Alright,” I said, “bring her to Landrum Vet tomorrow afternoon. I’ll call and have them expect us.” 

I’ll be honest, I was a bit frustrated, and this thing should have been handled long before the poor little thing was mauled a second and third time.

The following day after dialysis I met up with the young lady and Elizabeth, her sweet two-year-old daughter. I immediately went to see Ninja, the little Chihuahua, and saw she was torn up pretty bad. 

“It looks like she’s been grabbed and shaken, but we’ve stitched her up and she’s got tubes where she’s draining,” Dr. Raines explained, adding, “All in all, she’s a sweet girl and I think she’s gonna be fine.”

I went out to speak with the young lady and learned that her situation was far more dire than it first seemed to me. I kissed her little girl then explained to her that I cannot help unless Ninja is turned over to me and I won’t let her back into the same situation. The frail young lady was full of tears. She’s had Ninja, who is now four years old, since she was a puppy. 

She nodded her head and said she understood, then asked if she and Elizabeth could say goodbye. I had the staff bring Ninja out to them, and then I left them because the scene was breaking my heart. 

I set it up to handle all of Ninja’s expenses and then called my dear friend, Danielle Scruggs, and sent her pictures of Ninja. 

“Lennie, you’re the devil,” came Danni’s response. “I want to hold that sweet girl in my arms. I may have just the right person for her. Don’t give her up till I get back to you.” 

I don’t call Danielle often, but she’s a rock whenever I need her especially for Chihuahuas.

I visited Ninja every day and I received word after about a week that Norman, Danni’s friend, would take Ninja. Danni told me, “If I come back as a dog, Norman and his family is where I’d want to live.” That was more than good enough for me; I set up a meeting the very next day.

When Norman and Ruth held little Ninja in their arms, she seemed to settle down and laid her head on their shoulder as if she knew this was a safe place. She will be going home with them on Saturday, the day after this column publishes. Beds, toys and whatever else she would want have already been purchased.

I still couldn’t get the young lady and sweet little Elizabeth out of my mind, so I called to give them the news and ask how they were doing. 

“Elizabeth is still looking for Ninja,” she said. “I told her she’s in a safe place where she won’t be hurt anymore.” 

“How about you, dear?” I asked. “How are you doing?” 

“We’re fine, thank you, Mr. Rizzo. I have a little tree and I’ve got some toys for Elizabeth.” 

“You have my number,” I said. “If there’s anything you need, you give me a call. I know we can’t replace Ninja, but you get yourself together and circumstances change, so I’ll do my best for you and Elizabeth. Meanwhile, God bless and keep the faith.” 

“God bless you, too, Mr. Rizzo.”

I put down the phone, looked up to the heavens and whispered, “How’d I do with that one, Boss?”

Thanks for listening.