Shadow was always the adventurous type. He loved to get out of the yard whenever someone accidentally left the gate open. To him, the chase that usually ensued was the best part of the game.

One September day in 1994, during one such adventure, he ran out into a busy street and came fur to fender with a passing car. His 12-pound body was thrown across the road and broken to pieces. The worst break was his hip, right where the ball joint of his leg was to fit. The surgeon was planning to put in a plate, but there wasn’t enough bone to attach it to, so he had to use some tissue to make the repair.

My three-year old grandson, Taylor, insisted that the whole family pray for Shadow at every meal and before going to bed each night. We tried to assure him that Shadow was doing much better after his surgery, and that he would be fine. When we went back in for a checkup, it was discovered that his leg had slipped out of the socket, so another surgery was required. We learned how powerful the prayers of children are. After that second surgery, Taylor seemed to know that Shadow would be ok.

Shadow recovered and lived another seven years. He died at the age of 17.