We both knew Snicky wasn’t going to make it. We looked at each other with concern, silently wondering how to explain it to our kids. Just last night, our little terrier had been bouncing around the lot chasing bugs. But today she looked like a completely different creature. Gone was the youthful spark from her eyes. They were glazed over, and her face was very thin. Her hair drooped, and her stomach was sucked in.

At first, when I saw Snicky throwing up, I’d thought, “Oh, she must have worms. I’ll try to find some worming medicine. I wonder if they have animal doctors here? I don’t think anybody around here could afford a veterinarian; they can hardly feed their own families. Maybe I should try that guava-leaf tea that someone told me about for worms. After class this afternoon I will figure something out.”
As we drove to class, we explained to Hannah and Caleb that Snicky was very sick, and we didn’t know if she would get better. Hannah had already cried that day after she watched Snicky throw up, remembering our two pet baby goats in New Zealand that had gotten sicker and sicker until they died. Greg suggested that we pray for little Snicky, and we each took a turn asking God to heal our friend if it was His will.

When we got home, however, we decided she most likely would not make it. We tucked the kids into bed and then went out to talk to our neighbor friends. They love Snicky almost as much as we do. We all gathered around Snicky. She was having bloody bowel movements and then would just lie limply on the ground. Greg had grown up on a farm and had seen sickness take many of their dogs’ lives. I also had seen my share of sick animals die. It looked hopeless to us.
We asked our friends if there were any veterinarians around. They knew of a man to whom the term veterinarian might loosely apply. It was already evening, but our friend, Chewahn, said he would call the man and ask if he could see Snicky tonight. Greg whispered to me later that he knew it was too late for Snicky, but he didn’t want to appear heartless. I felt the same. With tears, I prayed that God would let her die quickly so she wouldn’t suffer and so our kids wouldn’t have to watch her suffer. I added a lame little clause at the end of my prayer that, of course, He could heal her if He wanted.

Greg and Chewahn came back with medicine, but I was sure we wouldn’t need it. The veterinarian didn’t lend much hope, either.
We laid Snicky down fully expecting her to die during the night. But to our amazement, she was still kicking the next morning. She even raised her head to greet us and tapped her tail weekly on the ground. “Oh, no,” I thought. “It’s going to be a long, painful, slow death. Maybe we should just have her put to sleep. Oh Lord, show us how to help her!”

The veterinarian had told the men not to give Snicky any food—only milk. We didn’t have any cow’s milk, only coconut milk, which is what we drink every day. I thought that if we gave Snicky coconut milk it might help her with her intestinal sickness. About a month before, I had attended some classes put on by the ASAP team teaching local medical missionary ladies how to use natural remedies to help the sick in their territories. One of the things I learned was that coconut had some strong healing properties. When I suggested the use of coconut milk to Greg, he agreed right away, and we started feeding Snicky a syringe full of coconut milk every hour. Later, we mixed it with ORS, a simple rehydration mixture. As we applied these simple remedies, we prayed that God would bless our efforts.
To our utter amazement, Snicky became stronger and stronger. Her eyes became more alert, and soon she was walking around feebly. A few mornings later, she was running around like she always does, and we were able slowly to start feeding her solids. To make a long story short, she is totally back to her old healthy self (except for a skin infection she got because the veterinarian didn’t use a sterile needle).

You may be asking by now, “What do dogs have to do with mission work? Your purpose is to save people, not dogs, right?”
Well, the Lord spoke to me in His still small way through this little incident. Snicky was utterly hopeless and ready to die, and we had no help to offer but our prayers and simple remedies. So it is with the Cham. In our own power, it is impossible to reach them with the gospel and keep them from eternal death. But God has called us to this work and equipped us. With your fervent prayers and with ours, there is no limit to the miracles He will perform. We were amazed at Snicky’s recovery, but we can’t wait to be amazed at the wonderful things He is about to do among the Cham. God clearly cares for Snicky, so how much greater value must He put upon every Cham person?

“Are not two sparrows sold for a copper coin? And not one of them falls to the ground apart from your father’s will. But the very hairs of your head are all numbered. Do not fear therefore: you are of more value than many sparrows” (Matt. 10:29-31).

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