For the love of puppys.....

Memories are a funny thing; they can take you from a happy place in time to a sad place in time. When we were kids my brother, Gary, and I use to talk about a lot of things. I remember talking about time travel one time, "does it exist or not?"
The best time travel in the world is right inside our heads, our memories.
I can see anyone that I've ever seen or go anywhere that I've ever been, in just an instant. The only thing is we can't change anything about our past memories.
Can you think of anything you'd like to change about a memory you have? I can.
I think most people would say they wish they hadn't done this or that, for those of you who know me you won’t be surprised to find out it involves a puppy!
Memories are funny; you can be 5 in one and not have another till you're 7 or 8.
The memory I'm speaking of happened when I was 10, I think?
I remember it being very cold outside and I was playing out without a coat, when from nowhere came the cutest puppy I'd ever seen. He must have only been about 9 or 10 weeks old. He was yellow and had a ton of hair, like a "Golden Retriever".
I remember calling for him and wanting to pet him so bad that I just knew he wasn't going to come to me, but he did. I remember how warm his fur made my uncovered arms and how he seemed to snuggle up to me as I held him.
After holding him a few seconds I ran up the stairs into the building my family and I were living in. My smile soon turned to a frown when I heard my Mom yell, "Get that dog out of here!"
"I love this puppy, why doesn't everyone love him?" I did what my Mom told me and took him back outside, I stayed out with him as long as I could stand the cold. I can remember walking up the stairs looking back at the puppy with tears in my eyes.
I fell asleep thinking about the puppy and woke up thinking about him. As soon as I woke up I ran outside calling for the puppy, "here Pup". "Someone else has gotten him", I thought to myself. Just as I gave up and started up the stairs I seen something the color of his fur, I yelled to myself, "there he is asleep under that car". I ran as fast as I could to get to him. I looked under the car, "yep, it's him!"
"Come on, pup", why wasn't he getting up? I realized he wasn't asleep, he was frozen to death. I picked him up and held him in my arms; I remember my face being so cold from the tears running down it. Someone, I don't remember who, came and took him from my arms and told me it'd be alright and to go home.
I think about this a lot, "what could I have done to save the puppy?"
Could I have made him a house, put him in a car or even disobeyed my Mom and hid him in the house?
The truth is there is nothing I could have done.
As an adult I think of this story and I'm thankful the puppy had someone to love it
Also, I like to think he went to sleep thinking about me, just like I did him.
So many people turn their backs on people in need because they think, "someone else will help them". Sometimes we are "someone else".
Watching people not helping someone with an "I'll show them" attitude makes me so sad, not for the "needy" but for the ones who have been hardened by the world.
How do people get that way? I believe they get that way one puppy at a time.
Remember I said there was something about this memory I'd like to change?
I'm sure you're thinking it has something to do with the puppy? It doesn't.
I'd like to remember the man who took the puppy out of my hands and told me to go home and that it'd be alright. Why? Because I'm almost sure that man was Jesus and he was telling me it'd be alright, not because the puppy was coming back to life, because the warmth from my heart for other living things had saved mine.