“Don't make me choose,” I said miserably.

“You shouldn't even be thinking of choosing!” my husband answered.

But a life-changing choice was necessary. My husband wanted me to surrender my 10-year-old beagle to the local Humane Society, then come home to England and forget our “failed venture” of emigrating. Bringing the dog home was not an option.

We had moved to Bozeman, Mont., from England to run a café. But my husband was unable to get his U.S. business visa extended after a year and had to return to England. … As a couple, we had no alternative but to sell the business and return to England. If I chose to stay, the marriage was over.

In those days, pets transported from the United States to England were quarantined for six months; however, in one year's time, a “Passports for Pets” program was due to be set up, but for Europe only.  So the beagle could not go from Montana to England without six months' quarantine in a cage. She was too old to cope with that, even if I could.

I bought Didi two months after my first husband died. She was sassy, loyal and cute—and she was an immutable part of the package when I remarried. …

In England, we had read a lot of Catherine Ponder's work. So when we came to Montana, we were drawn to the Unity church in Bozeman. We loved its energy and began to attend regularly.

… I went straight to my minister, Philip Zemke, for help … and Philip said the words that I will remember forever …

“Get outta the Lord's way!” he said. “He can't get around you if you block his path. All you gotta do is ask for what you want; then you just gotta let go and have some fun.”

Two days later, I stood up during Sunday morning announcements at Unity and said:

“I need a buyer for the café. With the Taste of Bozeman Festival in two weeks' time, I need a café manager to help me run a business that I don't understand. My dog can't go to England but she can go to Europe, so I need to find someone in Europe to look after her while I go back home and work something out. I need somewhere to stay here in Bozeman; I have to move out of my house in a week. I need help to work out U.S.-to-Europe immigration for a dog. And I need someone to lend me a quarter horse so I can go riding and watch eagles.”

Hands went up at once. Charles, who had catering experience, volunteered to act as unpaid manager for the café, and Robin, an actress, offered to introduce me to a friend who needed help exercising his three quarter horses.

Within two days, two people had offered us accommodations, and someone's cousin had telephoned me from Spain to say she would care for Didi if I needed her to.

And each evening, I rode quarter horses in the sunset, watching the eagles.

But the café didn't sell.

I telephoned the Ministry of Agriculture in England and asked whether taking a dog to Europe from the States and then registering it as a European dog meant that Didi could be eligible for Passports for Pets when it started up.

“We'd never thought of that!” said the woman at the other end. “I'll check.”

She called back, quite excited. “Americans are upset that the scheme doesn't work for them,” she said. “But this idea is fine. I'm telling others already, so thank you.”

My goodness—we were even helping others!

But the café didn't sell.

There was another problem: Charles, the unpaid café manager, was away for the weekend of the Taste of Bozeman Festival, and neither I nor the café staff had the slightest idea what to do. We couldn't pull out—I desperately needed the revenue to make the rent.

On the morning of the event, Carmen, a member of the Unity church congregation, came in with a card for me … It said “God is looking after you. Just trust.”

An hour later Al, a Unity congregant and former restaurant owner who'd been out of state until the day before, walked into the café and took over. He organized it all; we just had to do what he told us to do. By lunchtime he'd sorted it out and gone.

But the café didn't sell.

Let go and let God …

All the officials taking care of Didi's paperwork were so helpful. When I realized it all had to be translated into Spanish, Carmen from Unity translated it for me. When I found out that we were six days out of time for Didi's required rabies vaccination, the kind vet “accidentally” backdated the certificate. …

The next morning Lisa from Unity—who would drive us all the way to the airport in Seattle—arrived. Just as we were loading up, there was a phone call from the realtor.

The café had sold.

There was just time to stop off and sign the sale papers before I left Bozeman.

Seven months later, Didi the beagle was the first dog ever into the U.K. from the United States, via Spain, on the British Passports for Pets scheme. She lived happily with me in London for four more years.

Thank you, Unity of Bozeman. You taught me how to let go and let God.
 

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This article appeared in the July/August 2009 issue of Unity Magazine®.

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