Of their half a dozen neglected dogs, there was one frightened dog whose image I couldn’t get out of my mind. As days passed it became clear that my heart had been stolen by this skinny, wounded dog with spots.

Estimated at one year of age, she appeared to be an extremely thin damnation/border collie mix with a gapping 2” by 3” draining wound on her neck. I asked the family what had happened to her and they told me that they thought she had been attacked by a bobcat. They said it happened about three weeks prior to my visit and that they didn't have the money to take her to the vet. Instead of medical care, they recounted how they had given her ‘shots’ and tried to clean the wound by injecting hydrogen peroxide directly into her neck! I cringed with the thought of just how MUCH agony this must have caused the cowering black and white dog.

I just couldn’t get the image of this desperate little soul out of my mind and decided that I had to do something. After much prayer, Laurie and I went back a few weeks later to rescue a horse and two of the dogs (Laurie had decided to rescue an older dog). After we loaded the horse and dogs, we breathed a sigh of relief, waved goodbye and headed down the dirt road and to a better life for all our new passengers.

Once on the road, I noticed that my new little dog didn’t move much. It seemed that her starvation and injury had weakened her a great deal. Laurie and I did our best to wrap a dish rag around her neck to stem the nauseating flow of bloody puss and serum. Once the horse was safely settled, I took her to the vet immediately.

Over the following three months, my new ‘girl’ and I had been to the vet many times trying to figure out why her wound simply would not heal. I had two complete examinations, administered three full rounds of antibiotics, applied dozens of hot compresses and thoroughly washed it everyday. Activity was also prescribed to increase her circulation and help flush the injury from the inside out. Although her weight and energy level improved rapidly . . . her wound did not.

During this time, we became inseparable friends. She went with me everywhere, always running, jumping and playing. Together we went on many hikes and even climbed the Middle Sister (10, 047’) where there were areas so steep that I had to boost her up over my head onto the next ridge of boulders. She even accompanied me on a week long pack trip with Kim and some of the staff. Yet still, her wound continued to ooze. Finally, Kim and I decided to take her into the vet once more. We both knew that at this point the only way to truly clean her wound out . . . was surgery.

I left her at the vet with the instruction that they would call me with an update. When the tech called . . . nothing could have prepared me for what I was about to hear! She shared how they took a routine x-ray and as she waited for the image to appear on the screen, what slowly appeared made the hair on her entire body stand up! Out of the blackness, a shadowy image began to emerge . . . a three inch steel, triple blade broadhead, a hunting arrow! It was lodged against her spine. What the next x-ray exposed was even MORE unbelievable. It revealed that a seven inch section of the arrow shaft was STILL ATTACHED! The entire projectile was TEN INCHES LONG! The picture clearly showed that the end had not been broken, but cut. I could hardly believe what I was hearing! Realizing that my little dog had not only survived being shot . . . but lived with a ten inch arrow in her body for three months!

It is with great joy that I share with you today, my once mortally wounded dog . . . has fully recovered and is doing great! Because she has become so dear to me, I decided to name her ‘Dakota’ which means “Friend of all.”

Because of her . . . the Lord has taught me so much.

I have come to realize that often life is not that different from Dakota’s story. Each of us know times in this life when we cannot see the good; only the pain and suffering. We ALL have ‘arrows’ in our lives that need to be removed. Arrows such as anger, unforgiveness, fear, pride. They ‘wound’ us from the inside out and if left inside . . . can end up destroying our lives. Much like Dakota, there is no way that—we alone—can remove them ourselves.

There is only One who can help us. Yet, having an arrow removed is a ‘surgery’ that we must choose. The Lord is the only physician who can take out our arrows of pain . . . just as the vet took out Dakota’s. It is true, the process will hurt a bit and will take time to heal—but it WILL heal. In the long run, if we choose to yield our will and ask the Lord to remove our arrows . . . He can save our life.