Chavurat Derekh HaMashiach

So there I was… sitting very, very close to Dad.

Closer than usual.

Closer than “I’m hoping for a treat.”

This was “I’m praying to HaShem because that meat smells like heaven” close.Dad put the chuck eye on the grill, and I swear the smoke went straight up like a pillar in the wilderness. I looked at it and whispered:“Adonai… if You are listening… Your servant Kenny humbly requests… maybe just a tiny piece? A righteous portion? A holy sliver? I am but a simple dog.”Dad didn’t hear me.

But HaShem did. I know He did.Because right then — a hawk swooped in low.

Not a normal swoop.

A “I have seen the meat and I desire it” swoop.I locked eyes with that bird.

Dad stood guard like a soldier.

I sat there thinking:“Adonai… if You give me even one bite, I promise to be grateful. Also please tell the hawk to back off. He looks hungry and I only have three legs.”The hawk circled again.

Dad muttered something about tactical airspace.

I stayed seated, tail thumping, praying harder.And then…

Dad finished the steak.

He cut off the leftover fat.

And a little piece of meat that separated from the main chunk.He handed it to me.I looked up at the sky and said:“Todah, Adonai. You are good. You are faithful. And You have defeated the hawk.”I ate my blessing.

The hawk flew away.

Dad laughed.

And I resumed my post as Senior Grill Security Officer, watching the trees in case the bird tried a third pass.