As I drove to the hospital to visit my friend Billy during his chemo treatment, a stray lightning bolt struck a eucalyptus on the side of a wooded road. When the trunk collapsed 100 feet ahead, I skidded to a stop.
Out the door, I walked up to the tree and spotted an alabaster poodle cowering within the branches. I would have crushed this stray if the stray bolt didn’t strike. “How did you survive?” I spoke in a reverence as I scooped this lucky survivor up. “I’ll name you Chance.” We whipped around on a new route.
When Billy saw Chance, a smile bolted across his face. He could have gotten whiplash from that smile but that’s another copay. “How do you feel, Billy?” “100%. Never better,” he said with a dry chuckle like dry bark right before a forest fire. We all sat in the room together as the chemo dripped into Billy’s collapsing body.