Have you ever been homesick? I have. Before my husband retired, his work occasionally took us to different parts of the country to live for short periods of time. I found myself homesick for family, friends, my community and church, where I knew everyone and they knew me.

During those times of homesickness, I often thought of an old hound dog named Renny, our family pet when I was a little girl, and a lesson he taught that has stayed with me throughout life.

Life With a Dog Named Renny

Renny was a good dog—a hound with the patience of Job. In our family with four active outdoor-type kids, he took part in whatever we did. He was content to be running through the woods or inside taking a nap as long as he was with us. His devotion to our family was unwavering.

Most of the time, we played in the woods and built hideouts and forts in a make-believe world. On occasions, against our parents’ instructions, my brothers took a dip in the pond. But there was no fear because Renny was always with us. He was a member of our gang and assumed the role of guardian against any foe we might face.

When neighborhood kids gathered for a baseball or football game, he was an active participant. He was the first to plow through thorny, tangled briars and recover a throwaway ball. He ran the baseball diamond with whoever hit the ball, encouraging them to run faster and make it to home plate.

During a game of Hide-and-Seek, you were fortunate to have him on your team. He could sniff out the opposing players better than anyone.

If we put sunglasses on him, he wore them with dignity and grandeur, as if he was a Hollywood star. When we brought out the Brownie camera, he posed like a model.

On the days I needed a playmate for “dress-up,” he wore a hat with flowers and a fancy scarf from my mother’s closet. He might not have liked it, but he tolerated it.

Renny would stretch out in front of the television while we watched our favorite programs. He could be a comfy pillow if you didn’t mind a smelly dog. Saturday morning after breakfast, we all piled on the floor in front of the TV to watch cartoons, and Renny was right there in the middle of us, enjoying the leftover bacon we saved for him. Then, on Sunday afternoons, it was time for hot buttered popcorn and our favorite TV series, Gunsmoke. From the porch, Renny could smell the corn popping, and he howled until we let him inside. He loved popcorn.

The Day Life Changed

No matter where Renny roamed during the day, he always came home for supper. But one day, he didn’t. Daddy said he probably chased a rabbit too far and forgot about supper, and he felt confident Renny would be home before dark. When darkness fell, there was no sign of our dog. A heaviness settled over our house as we thought about him not being on the porch in his usual spot by the door.

The next day, hoping neighbors might have seen him, we knocked on every door within walking distance. We walked trails through the woods as we called his name. He was not to be found.

The weight of sadness hung over us like a dark cloud.

We never gave up hope he would come home, but as the days turned into weeks and then months, we knew it was unlikely we would see our dog again.

Summer ended, and school started back. Most days were the same as the day before. We ate breakfast, went to school, came home, did our homework, played outside, ate supper, took baths, watched television, and went to bed. The next day, we did the same thing again.

My city friends considered my life uninteresting. There were days I felt like that, too. Nothing exciting happened except for the times we saw a snake while running through the woods or Jake, the bull, chased us out of the pasture, breathing down our necks. There was a time I crashed my bike among the oak trees and broke my arm. But the thrill of waking up to discover baby calves born during the night was better than any shopping trip to town.

Mama often asked me to climb a tree in the apple orchard and scare the birds away from the fruit. Looking back, I know it was her way of giving me time alone because she knew I loved to read. One tree had a forked limb where I sat for hours reading my Trixie Belden books. I dreamed of doing the things I read in the books, the adventures and unexpected surprises Trixie and her sidekick, Honey, encountered.

And then it happened—the day I discovered that sometimes things we least expect happen without warning.

Yes, Miracles Do Happen

It was a fall day, with a little nip in the air. Mama spent the day cleaning the yard, raking fallen leaves into a pile, and then letting us jump smack into the middle. Leaves scattered in the air, then floated down to cover us like a bed of fallen snow. When we finished playing, Mama raked the leaves into a pile again. With a flick of a match, smoke curled and danced upward like a magical genie coming out of a bottle. Within minutes, the pile of leaves became black ashes on the ground. And just like that, the day ended. It was time for supper.

As we walked up the back porch steps, a dog running up the road at breakneck speed caught our attention. His tongue flapped in the wind, and the closer he came, we recognized him. It was Renny, homeward bound as fast as his frail body could take him.

We ran down the steps as he came into the yard. There was a collision of excited kids and a happy dog. He jumped and barked as if to say, “I’m home! I’m home!” He was so skinny, the bones on his hips protruded. There was an indentation around his neck where a rope had caused his fur to thin. Daddy said it was the telltale sign that someone had tied him so he could not escape.

Renny was away from us for three long months. I’m thankful that from the time someone took him until he escaped, his thoughts were “homeward bound.”

From that time forward, Renny spent more time inside with the family. He still chased rabbits, but he always came home in time for supper. On cold days, he would nap for hours in front of the fire.

Renny was a good dog, a part of my childhood, and I still miss him.

Lessons Learned From Our Dog

We never knew who took him, how he escaped, or how he found his way home. But, kept against his will, Renny taught us valuable truths. We learned if faced with a challenge, we can overcome it. Above all, we can always find our way back home.

Homeward Bound

Renny’s story is one of a joyful homecoming with his family, who loved him and longed for his return. It’s much the same for us, God’s children. He longs for us to come home to Him, where we find forgiveness, joy, and unconditional love. There is rejoicing when we return home to our Father.

Can you get that visual in your mind of running to God, where He is waiting for you with open arms? There are no chains, ropes, or distance that can keep you from coming home to Him. It is my prayer that you, like Renny, are “homeward bound!”