It looks like this is going to be trucker testimonies shared over cb radios.

Well, I have high regard for truckers and their communication over the air waves.

The main reason I could never make it as a truck driver, although I had some significant local delivery jobs, was the condition of narcolepsy. You just can’t override it.

This article is going to be about two miracle testimonies.

Buddy and Miles are two amazing dogs that each had a life-threatening injury to a rear leg, about six or seven years apart, before they were together.

Buddy has been my dearest border collie for over a decade—we are close.

Years ago he was excitedly twirling around in front of my son’s truck, too close, and got run over.

I was not home, and the news devastated me, not knowing if he was going to survive.

I prayed, just that he would make it.

He did, but it seemed to take forever just to see him get around.

He loved to run, sometimes up to thirty miles an hour, and now he couldn’t even walk.

I can’t explain it—his healing is a miracle.

He runs again, not thirty miles an hour now, but he wants me to ride my bicycle fast, so he can run fast.

An interesting observation:

When he walks, he uses the back leg, rather normal.

When he trots, he often carries the back leg.

When he runs full speed, you can’t tell anything is wrong with the leg.

Buddy and I were very close for years, but as you may guess, now we are CLOSE !

We are both getting up in years, and we do face the reality of slowing down a bit.

Miles joined us a little over a year ago, my wife’s dog.

He was amazing to me from day one, because he had so many traits of a border collie—in reality, almost a clone of Buddy—so we got close.

One day I was pulling my sixteen foot trailer behind my van.

As I went around a curve in my gravel driveway, Miles ran out of room between the trailer tire and cactus next to the road.

The gutwrenching devastation of running over this new treasured dog was too much.

His injuries were even more life-threatening than Buddy’s.

He got x-rays, and the vet gave no hope—said he never saw a dog recover from such injuries, including internal as well as a rear leg like Buddy.

While others made plans for putting Miles down, I prayed and pleaded with God to have mercy on me and the dog.

He couldn’t eat, and had to be carried outside to go.

Days without hope, but I prayed and hoped.

Sometimes God just chooses to say yes, and heal—slowly, so we don’t forget to keep praying, and keep thanking.

Then one day, he could stand a few seconds, then he could go without being held up.

The days and weeks not being able to walk were so hard, because Miles was wired to fly like the wind, in total delight, in love of life, just like Buddy.

The little steps of progress were so thrilling—walking a few steps before exhaustion, picking up a stick, wanting to run if only he could, then actually running a little, then a little more (rationing him, to not hurt himself), wanting to get in the car (with help), getting in the car without help, running faster, chasing a ball, and now tearing up the turf in the house and outside, clearing all five steps on the way out—no restrictions.

Miles and I got close right after I met him—now we’re CLOSE, but different than Buddy and me.

Miles is still young, and he can’t imagine ever having to slow down.

It’s amazing, the times God chooses to use a precious creature to touch our hearts and lives profoundly, and sometimes two at the same time.

Indeed—-My Good Buddy and Miracle Miles—thank You, Jesus.