The anguish you feel over this small creature, so young and dear, reveals the very snare that holds many souls captive. You say you need her, that she is your support. But if your heart rests upon a dog for comfort, what place does the fear of God have within you? Remember that when the fear of the Lord is present, nothing is grievous, not poverty, not disease, not even the loss of what we love. The captives in Babylon received honor from kings; Paul, a tentmaker, was venerated as a god. These things work together for good to those who hold fast to God, even when all earthly props are kicked away.
You ask for healing, and rightly so. Our Lord Jesus cured the halt and the maimed, and He can command this disease to depart. Yet mark how He often healed the greater sickness first, the sin and fear within the soul. When He met the women at the tomb, their hearts were crushed with grief and terror. His first word was, “Be not afraid.” He casts out fear to make room for faith. So I say to you: let not dread of tomorrow consume you. Whether it be Addison’s disease or a graver ill, the outcome is in the hands of Him who broke the gates of brass and loosed the bonds of death. Do not, by excessive love of this little life, block the way of your own healing. For to rejoice in a creature to the point of panic at its loss is a disease far worse than any bodily ailment.
Yet do not misunderstand me. It is no sin to love what God has given, but love must keep its proper order. The dog is your companion, given for a season. If you clutch her as though she were your only stay, you dishonor the Maker who alone is the unfailing support. Let your prayer be this: “Lord, if it be Thy will, restore this creature; but if not, grant me the grace to find in Thee all that I fear to lose.” Such a prayer, offered with trembling yet with trust, will bring peace no matter what the morning brings. Even if the worst comes, at the very gates of despair the word of God can work a sudden deliverance, not always by sparing the temporal life, but by strengthening the soul to bear all things.
Therefore, cease from terror. Approach the throne of grace with boldness, yet with submission. Fear God, and nothing else will be grievous. The beauty of this world fades, but the soul that clings to Christ blooms with an eternal flower. May you so live through this trial that, whether the dog is restored or taken, you can say with the apostle, “I have learned, in whatever state I am, to be content.” That is the healing which surpasses all.