It started with a cry—a tiny, helpless sound lost in the hush of morning. A newborn lamb, still slick from birth, was searching for warmth, for comfort, for a mother’s touch. But instead of drawing her close, his mother turned away. That’s when a dog named Max became a loving parent to this sweet, rejected baby lamb. 

Max stood by and kept watch as her humans did everything they could to foster the mother bond for little Beau. No matter what her human tried—rubbing him with his mother’s scent, giving them time in close quarters—she wanted no part of him. She only grew more distant, more agitated, until the answer became clear. She wasn’t going to be his mother.

Max, the family dog, had been watching from the sidelines. And when she heard Beau’s cries, she couldn’t ignore them. She knew what the sound of feeling lonely felt like. She also knew what it felt like to belong to a family. So, she padded over, sniffed the trembling lamb, and then, with the gentleness only a dog can muster, he licked Beau’s face as if to say, “It’s okay, I’ve got you.” And from that moment, Max did.

They became inseparable. Max kept watch while her human mom bottle-fed Beau, standing guard like the fiercest protector. They napped together, curled up in the sun-drenched house. They ate lunch side by side—one drinking milk, the other crunching kibble, but both knew they belonged to each other. And they played like nobody’s business. They loved to run and play a game of tag. 

Max taught Beau how to play, how to trust, and how to feel safe. And Beau, in her own little way, taught us so too. Max something too—how to love like a parent, how to step in when someone needs you most.

But then came the day every foster parent dreads—the day Beau had to go back with the other sheep. He had grown strong enough, big enough. It was time.

His human mom was worried. Would Beau forget? Would he disconnect now that he was back in the flock? Had the love Max poured into him mattered?

And every time Max is out in the pasture, Beau comes running. No hesitation. No forgetting. He nudges Max, plays with her, lingers by her side. Because love doesn’t just disappear. Love remembers.

Max didn’t have to care for a tiny, rejected lamb. But she did. And because she did, Beau will never be the same.

And isn’t that the kind of love we all long for? The kind that steps in when we’re lost, the kind that sees past where we came from and loves us anyway? The kind that stays, even when the seasons change?

Because the truest love doesn’t just love for a little while. It loves forever.

Psalm 145:9 "The Lord is good to all; He has compassion on all He has made."