Delight yourself in the LORD, and He will give you the desires of your heart. (Psalm 37:4)
On March 12, 2023, David and I became husband and wife in a ceremony I never would have thought possible. I, the outcast, super-nerd, last one to ever get picked for the team, had somehow become the one that a handsome, intelligent, talented man would choose to spend the rest of his life with. That thought still astounds me.
More than that, I remain in awe and gratitude that God chose David and me for each other before we were born. While the paths we traveled in life were often troublesome, they were what our Heavenly Father ordained for us. We needed to learn, adjust, and trust that His way is better than our way. We needed to learn and relearn full surrender. We needed to put God first before seeking our own ways.
So often in life, we think we know what’s best. We plan without praying, we pursue and plunge without full consideration of the consequences. And then we wonder why we fail.
Isaiah 55: 8-9 tells us, “For my thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways my ways,” declares the Lord. As the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways higher than your ways and my thoughts than your thoughts.”
Plenty of people succeed without God, that’s true, but how shallow are their victories? How empty are their pursuits? God’s plans for us are so much greater than anything we could ever come up with ourselves. I’ve learned that lesson the hard way – and then some.
In my case, I was so desperate for love and acceptance that I foolishly believed it would come from someone who didn’t know how to put God first. How wrong I was. Without God’s love surrounding our lives, without the understanding that we must serve and surrender our will to His, everything we achieve on our own is shallow and flawed.
I had a million reasons why I couldn’t travel to Florida to help Samaritan’s Purse in October 2022. I didn’t have a pet-sitter. I didn’t have vacation time. I didn’t know the first thing about construction, and I’m awkward in social situations. How could I serve in this capacity when I was so insignificant?
Me in my Kevlar suitoutside a hurricane ravaged motor home in Ft Myers after helping remove water-soaked insulation from beneath the sub floor.
Still, I surrendered.
God, if you want me there, I remember praying, you’re going to have to open the doors.
And that’s exactly what He did.
I found a pet-sitter. I learned that my employer offered paid vacation time. On my first night at the Ft Myers church that housed the Samaritan’s Purse (SP) volunteers, I was joined at the dinner table by a church group that immediately made me feel welcome.
Still, the surrender continued. It was on my third day volunteering when I surrendered to that group’s request to join their team that I met David.
It was in surrendering half of my lunch to David the first day that he arrived that he saw my heart.
David and I helped Samaritan’s Purse in Ft Myers on December 23, 2022 day after his proposal to me.
It was only after I had surrendered more time to stay in Ft Myers beyond my original departure date that I heard David’s testimony.
In surrendering my thoughts to God’s, I was prompted to ask two of the homeowners if they’d thought about tearing down a wall in their kitchen. Doing so prompted me to ask David if such a thing was possible. It was only then that David told the homeowners that not only could they tear down the wall, but he would do so for them – and then rebuild their entire home.
David installing a new garbage disposal in the kitchen he helped rebuild in Ft Myers, FL. (January 2023)
This new promise to rebuild prompted David to ask me to help. Of course, this time, I couldn’t help but surrender to the request.
Me, grouting the new floors David installed in the Ft Myers, FL home. (January 2023)
On December 11, one day shy of the two months I’d known David, he asked me to marry him – in the house he was rebuilding, on the morning after I’d finally surrendered and driven back to Florida to deliver the help I’d promised to give.
The act of surrender isn’t a noun. It’s a verb. It requires continual action, perpetual reinforcement, and consistent affirmation. I, more than anyone, know how valuable surrender to God can be.
Psalm 37:4 tells us to “Delight yourself in the LORD, and He will give you the desires of your heart.” Surrender to God is a delight. He knows more than we do what is best for us. His plans are better than anything we can come up with on our own.
I stand here today, a surrendered woman, blessed beyond measure by a God that I can never outgive.
March 12 isn’t just my wedding anniversary; it’s a celebration of how gracious our God is, and it’s a day that allows me to continually testify to the gracious, unending, unparalleled power of surrender.
David and I celebrated our third anniversary at a local restaurant.
Thank you, Jesus, for teaching me the incredible power of surrender. May I never cease to sing Your praises, and may I never stop surrendering to You.
Now if we are children, then we are heirs—heirs of God and co-heirs with Christ, if indeed we share in His sufferings in order that we may also share in His glory. (Romans 8:17)
When David and I visited Puerto Rico (PR) on our premier wedding anniversary in March 2023, we encountered our first island stray– a kitten – in the El Yunque rainforest parking lot. The presence of this tiny fur ball in the parking lot of a national park stirred our compassion so much that we each fed him half of our lunches. Afterward, I ensured a young man working at a ranger station knew the feline was there.
After thanking me for letting him know, the ranger confirmed that he’d reach out to a friend who had a rescue. “I’m sure he’s a stray. We see them here sometimes.”
We later commented to the owner of a local gift shop about the kitten’s presence and the number of dogs we saw running around the island. “We have a huge problem with stray animals here,” he explained. “Stray dogs, cats, and even horses are everywhere. There are few resources to take care of them. I have already taken in five dogs, and my friend has done the same.”
I vividly remember telling David that we could never live in Puerto Rico. “We’d want to save them all,” I recall saying.
At the time, I couldn’t have imagined how God would use our love for His creatures to change our lives one year later. During this year’s repeat trip, David and I learned firsthand how vast the island’s Sato problem is.
According to Dogster.com, “Sato is Puerto Rican slang for street mutts.” While Satos have been around since the island was colonized, an estimated 500-650,000 strays are roaming the territory now. While the breed typically shares similar traits – such as short fur, large ears, and a long muzzle – the name has been widely accepted to incorporate all varieties of intermixed breeds, including terriers, labradors, and pointers.
With such an abundance of strays, our vacation rental property manager gave the general guidance, “Please don’t feed the animals,” on his website. As a reminder, he featured a sign with the same message on his back porch.
“Easier said than done,” I commented to David – long before we boarded our first plane for our vacation. “We need to stay strong.”
Blondie & Brownie waiting for us on the porch of our Puerto Rican rental property.
All that disappeared when we met two amazing dogs outside our rental home. Blondie and Brownie, as David affectionately named them, met us shortly after our arrival – even going so far as to follow us down the steep half-mile path to a deserted beach below the property. While Brownie showed no fear of us, Blondie was a bit skittish and wouldn’t allow us to touch him. Still, the two were inseparable and seemed eager to accompany us on our daily journey.
Brownie trotted alongside us as we passed through the “free-roaming cow gate” – comprised of two rows of barbed wire and a long stick – with Blondie close behind. The two occasionally ventured off the trail to take an easier path, yet they never strayed far from our sides. They waited when we walked slower than they did and remained close every step of the way.
After exiting the woods near the dunes, the dogs trotted ahead, leading us onto one of the most magnificent beaches I’d ever seen. With cliffs to our right, a roaring ocean ahead, and a pristine, deserted shoreline to walk in either direction, the companionship and camaraderie of our canine friends served to make our daily beach walks even more magical.
Watching the two dogs play together on the beach – roughhousing in the sand and chasing one another at breakneck speed – enhanced our appreciation of God’s resplendent creation. While laughing at the dogs’ antics each evening, we marveled at how our Heavenly Father had given us these two precious pups to enhance our getaway.
By day 3 of our week-long stay, neither David nor I resisted feeding our new-found companions. What started as bread and leftovers soon escalated to a whole bag of dog food, a bucket of water, and prayers about their long-term welfare.
By day 4, I was lying awake at night, wondering if feeding the dogs and showing them affection was the right thing to do.
“I love that they’re here,” I cried to David while eating breakfast that morning, “but they’re breaking my heart. I feel like we’ll be doing the same thing that others have done – abandoning them without explanation. It feels like a betrayal. This whole thing has become a dark cloud over our trip.”
Our Puerto Rican welcome party – Blondie (top) and Brownie (bottom) loved to just hang out with us.
When David said he understood, I began a two-fold mission: 1) researching the intricacies of flying dogs off the island and back to the States, and 2) contacting local animal rescues in hopes of finding loving homes for our new friends. What I uncovered made me pause in my pursuit. Many of the organizations that claimed to help animals were instead 24/7 kill shelters with a 96% euthanasia rate – paid for by the Puerto Rican government. “Be careful,” one legitimate site said. “While you may feel like you’re helping, research before you reach out to any ‘rescues.'”
While I was far from alone in my desire to save the island Satos, doing so soon proved to be a monumental task. Part of the problem is a culture that doesn’t see a problem – just a reality. Dogs and cats are everywhere. Their free-roaming existence is part of life on the 3,500-square-mile island.
According to The Sato Project, the stray dog population doubled following Hurricane Maria in 2017. Pets were separated from their owners and became hopelessly lost. An unstable power grid, a slew of natural disasters, and poor economic prosperity led to some animal owners abandoning the island and their pets. According to SaveTheSatos.com, the remaining strays quickly multiplied – further exacerbating the problem. It’s estimated that an unspayed female and her mate can produce 67,000 puppies throughout a 6-year interval.
Organizations such as FlyDogz actively work to rescue/rehabilitate and save Satos by flying puppies off the island to awaiting adopters within the U.S. Anyone willing to be a “Flyer” can help carry a dog onboard a plane and straight to the waiting arms of a rescuer in Tampa, FL.
While our situation was different, I still contacted the organization for suggestions. I was told to join their Facebook page: Tourist in Puerto Rico and found a dog/cat; now what? After asking for assistance, one group member told me I could help by taking the dogs home with me.
“I’m leaving in 3 days,” I responded, “I can’t even catch one of the Satos, let alone take them both to the vet, complete the FAA paperwork, and get them on a plane to travel home with us.”
Still, the thought remained in my head. How on earth could we take these two dogs – animals we’d seen bite the tail off of one iguana and later thrash another – home to live with us and our kitties? The idea seemed inconceivable. And yet, I wondered, was it?
We knew we needed to leave by noon for the 3-hour drive back to the airport on our last day. We’d take one last walk to the beach with our furry friends before feeding them and trying to say “goodbye.”
Our final walk was bittersweet. While we loved being in PR and spending time with the dogs, leaving them would be heartbreaking. As we neared the last stretch of the walk in the woods before turning to cross the dunes, we heard Spanish spoken to our right. Who was there? We’d never seen anyone on any of the paths during our 7-day stay.
As we exited the woods, two men carrying giant bamboo tree trunks as walking sticks greeted us. “Are those your dogs?” the first man asked.
“They’re strays,” I replied. “They’re super sweet and have followed us all week.” On impulse, I added, “Would you like two dogs? We’re praying that someone will take care of them.”
The first man laughed, saying, “No, but I can give you the number of someone who can help! She helped me with a problem I had.”
After pulling up a contact listing on his phone, the man encouraged me to take a picture to have all the contact info I needed. I remain amazed by how much that chance encounter meant to our story.
I now believe those men were angels sent to us by God. The rest is, as they say, history.
After arriving at our gate at the San Juan airport, I could wait no longer to text Dawn Frederick – the contact I’d saved from the angel’s phone. Her organization is rightfully named Angels for Animals, Puerto Rico. I desperately wanted to make contact and know someone might help Blondie and Brownie after our departure. Dawn instantly replied, saying she might be able to put them on a feeding run. The thought gave me hope that they wouldn’t be alone.
By the next day, David and I agreed that we couldn’t leave the dogs behind. “I want to get them,” David said.
David and I couldn’t forget Brownie or Blondie and wanted to bring them home.
“So do I,” I agreed. “Thank God, we both think alike! Let’s text Dawn.”
As it turned out, Dawn was in the U.S. at the time, taking care of her mother, who has cancer. Despite this enormous challenge in her personal life, she runs a successful hotel booking agency and splits time between her U.S. and PR homes while running her charity to save the island’s precious Satos.
Two days after returning to PR, Dawn, David, and I incorporated the assistance of the property owner we’d rented from during our vacation. “This is the part where I admit we fed the animals,” David laughingly admitted.
“That’s okay,” Carlo confirmed. “I rescued one myself. I understand.” Miraculously, Carlo was entirely on board with our rescue proposal. “My housekeeper knows them,” he said. “She can help.”
As it turned out, that extra help was never needed.
On Friday, April 11th – 6 days after we’d returned from our trip – Dawn drove an hour and a half to our former rental to search for Blondie and Brownie.
“I’m starting off on the rescue mission,” Dawn said in her preliminary video to us. “I have food and chicken right here in my hand. Food to feed dogs on the way. Two kennels for the dogs. Getting some kittens this morning that are 2-days old and back here for a group effort to save. Towels and stuff for the inside of the kennels. Preventatives for the dogs. Here we go. This is what you do!”
A few texts with Carlo, David, and me over the next few hours verified that Dawn was at the correct location. I’ll never forget Dawn’s words an hour later as she called to tell us she’d caught Blondie and Brownie.
“Oh, my gosh!!!” I yelled through the phone. “I can’t believe it!”
“Yay!” David affirmed.
“Yay, God!!” I completed. David and I could hardly contain our enthusiasm and tears at hearing this miraculous news.
Two hours and a complete veterinarian exam later, we learned that both dogs had hookworms and heartworms but were in otherwise good health. Brownie weighed in at 59 pounds and Blondie at 50. Both tested negative for tick-related diseases. Dawn gave them a preventive pill to kill their fleas and begin destroying the heartworm larvae. The vet vaccinated both and provided the health certificates they needed so they could fly out of PR. They also administered IV fluids to assist with their malnutrition.
Blondie solidified his hold on my heart on the morning of our last day in PR when he finally let me touch him.
While learning that both dogs had heartworms was frightening, this often fatal condition is treatable – albeit expensive. There was no question that we’d do whatever it took to save these precious lives.
“Thank you for telling us,” I cried to Dawn. “That means so much to me. I was worried about taking them from their beautiful home, but now I know, it was the right thing to do. We’re saving their lives.”
One week later, on Good Friday, after boarding both dogs at a local kennel for a week, they were on their way to Miami and, ultimately, Jacksonville, FL. Temperatures were the primary concern, as no one would fly dogs in cargo if the weather rose above 85 degrees. With temps expected to reach 83 that day, we were precariously close to the cut-off that would make escape from the island impossible.
Two airline attempts – 1 successful and the other not – would eventually bring Blondie and Brownie as far as the southern tip of Florida.
“Can you get to Miami?” Dawn asked at 11:12 am that Friday morning. “They can’t get them to Jacksonville now for some reason.”
“Oh, my gosh,” I replied. We’ll do our best to get out the door in the next half hour – but it’ll take us 7 hours without stops to get there. No chance of getting them further north?”
“Okay. Start driving,” Dawn texted me in return.
Two weeks and one day later, Blondie and Brownie have completely changed our lives. As we walk them together each evening, David repeatedly affirms our new reality: “We have two dogs!”
“We sure do,” I say in return. “Yay, God!”
While this journey is far from over, I can’t help but be struck by how our lives – and the lives of everyone walking the face of the earth – are like Blondie’s and Brownie’s. We’re all strays without Christ. We’re no different than Puerto Rican street dogs. We may seem to be okay by all outward appearances. But inwardly, we’re all lost, homeless, trying to make it through on borrowed time.
We all have heartworms of some sort inside us – eating away at our life’s blood, only to eventually kill us one day. Most of us don’t even know what’s consuming us from the inside out, nor do we care. We run in the sand, chasing one another, recklessly pursuing life’s temporary pleasures, without realizing how lonely, sick, and helpless we all are. We’re lost without Christ. Everything we seek in this world – food, status, power, and comfort – means nothing when the storms, sickness, and even death come.
With Christ, each of us has the chance to start over, to begin again. We can be healthy – from the inside out – if we surrender to our Heavenly Father and give him our hearts and lives.
God gave up His Son to save us: Satos that we are. We don’t deserve His love and sacrificial efforts to rescue, save, and cover us with His precious blood, bringing us home to live forever with Him in heaven one day. He loved us before we were born – just as David and I did with each other – just as David and I are now doing for Blondie and Brownie.
“God sent them to us, and us to them,” David often says. “These are the perfect dogs for us, as we are for them.”
Our first family portrait with Blondie and Brownie Olson, taken in our yardjust after bringing them home to GA.
I am establishing social media accounts to document Blondie’s and Brownie’s stories. We aim to share their love, joy and hope with the world. Their heartworm recovery will take time, money, and lots of love – the latter being something God gave us in abundance.
It’s an adventure bringing home strays. Once created, I’ll keep sharing their stories here and on their Facebook and Instagram accounts. I hope hearing about our journey to rescue, rehome, and rehabilitate these precious pups will encourage others to do the same.
But more importantly, I want everyone who hears about Blondie and Brownie to remember that they are no longer strays. While Blondie’s and Brownie’s journey continues, so does ours. By the grace of God, we, too, are Satos No More.
