Bandit's Bell

My wife and I are lucky because we can watch a great 4^th of July fireworks show every year right from our very own front yard. However, this year was the busiest 4^th of July weekend we have ever seen at Capo Beach. Thousands of people showed up to enjoy the beach and take in the fireworks show, which was long and loud. Perhaps a little too loud for one tiny little Chihuahua. When I went out to the street to say goodbye to some friends, I found the little guy cowering underneath my truck. It took a while, but I finally coaxed him out and took him back to his home about five houses down. They were so relieved to have him back and so extremely thankful that it reminded me of the time when I lost my dog but found something truly incredible.

I was 14 years old and living in a rural area of San Diego County. It was a really beautiful area, filled with lush green hills, avocado groves, and dozens of fishing ponds. I had a German Shepherd dog named “Bandit” that traveled with me everywhere I went. So every day we hiked the hills, explored the countryside together, and caught fish in the ponds. Since I had no neighbors nearby and was too young to drive into town, Bandit became my constant companion, and I loved him as deeply as any young boy could.

One day my family was preparing to go out of town on vacation.  We were only going to be gone a few days, so our plan was to lock Bandit in the garage and have a friend stop by to care for him. But on the morning we were to leave, I couldn’t find Bandit anywhere. It wasn’t unusual for him to go exploring on his own, but I knew I could always find him because my Dad had had tied a small - but loud - cowbell around his neck. You could hear that cowbell for miles but on this particular morning, as I climbed to the top of the highest hill, I couldn’t hear the cowbell going off. I called Bandit’s name over and over and began frantically searching. I knew we were leaving soon and if we left without locking Bandit in the garage, when night fell he would quickly become coyote bait. (We had already lost two cats and one other dog to the coyotes).

After climbing several hills and calling his name for over two hours, I was about to give up. I was totally distraught and scared that I was going to lose my best friend. It was the first time in my life that I actually thought about praying for help. My parents and I attended a local Church so I knew how to pray, but being young I guess I just never needed God’s help as badly as I needed it that day. As I stood on a dirt road near a reservoir high on top of a hill overlooking Highway 15, I could see for miles. I looked around one last time for Bandit…then I bowed my head and began to pray.

I’m not sure how long I stood there praying, but suddenly I heard the cowbell go off - right behind me! I turned around and sure enough Bandit was sitting right there wagging his tail and looking super happy to see me. I was shocked because I kept thinking…how did that dog walk right up behind me without that cowbell going off? Why didn’t I hear that bell? How is that even possible? I realized at that moment that while I might not have heard Bandit’s Bell going off, God heard mine!

Bandit...when he was a puppy,

The value of prayer is not that He will hear us, but that we will hear Him.
~ William McGill