Sir Edgar: The Dude

My God Shots

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Thom Lambert lives in Waynesboro, Pennsylvania and is the proud father of three girls. He owns and operates Earhart Custom, where he makes handcrafted furniture. This is his God Shot.

On a Thursday morning in April of 2019, I was driving home from dropping my three daughters off at school, when I was stopped by police. My family and I live in an old Victorian farmhouse in a semi rural area of Pennsylvania. Our home sits on the side of a mountain, and there are many open fields. Growing up a city boy in Washington DC, living out here has been a dream come true. The policeman approached my car and held up a picture. “Have you seen this girl?” He asks. It was a picture of a little girl around 6 or 7 years old. “No, I haven’t,” I say, stunned.

We talked briefly and I learn that she is missing. I get home and my wife greets me with the same news. It didn’t seem real that a child, around our middle daughter’s age, could disappear right at the edge of our neighborhood. Gratefully, our concerns were short lived. Around noon the same day, authorities found the little girl wandering in a field about a mile from our house.

It turned out that her family had been investigated before and child protective services had been called on them in the past. Since the girl was found safe and unharmed, the general consensus was that her disappearance was a case of negligence. That’s always unsettling to hear, but at least there was nothing sinister lurking around, and our little world returned to normal.

The next day we drove to DC for my grandma’s funeral. Our visit was a brief one. We left DC the following night around 10 p.m. and got home around one in the morning. We put each sleeping girl in their room and went to bed. Around 3:30 a.m. we woke up to our dog, Edgar, barking like crazy. It was an aggressive type of bark that we’d never heard before.

You see, Edgar’s a goofball that’s sometimes hard to contain. He’s a large dog that looks like a beagle, but weighs about 85 pounds. Imagine a beagle on stilts. He’s a Treeing Walker Coonhound and an all around sweet guy. He never barks angrily, ever, and he’s never bitten anyone. The only thing Edgar’s guilty of is not always knowing his own strength when he greets people.

When Edgar woke us that night, it freaked me out a bit. I jumped out of bed and did my best to reassure him. When I finally got him to settle down, I went back to bed. That’s when I heard the footsteps running down the stairs. As a parent, you become very familiar with the sounds your kids make. Everything about your kids becomes familiar and that’s how my wife and I knew that someone had broken into our home.

I raced out of bed and checked the girls rooms first. All three were asleep. Quickly, I headed downstairs and saw the kitchen door hanging wide open. The window beside it had also been opened. Panicked, I slammed them both shut and grabbed two big butcher knives. Full disclosure, I may be the only person in Pennsylvania that doesn’t own a gun. 

Back upstairs, I told my wife, “Someone was in the house! I’m calling 911, but first, I’m bringing the girls to you. Keep them in the room while I clear the house. Lock the door behind me and only open it if I knock three times.” I gave her one of the butcher knives and said, “If someone tries to open the door without knocking three times, cut their arm off.” She could barely speak but surprisingly managed to utter an, “Okay.”

In under a minute, I got my girls and laid them in the bed with my wife. For the most part, they stayed sleeping. I called 911 while I was checking the house, and when the police arrived, they cleared the house again. When they went into our bedroom, they asked me where our other dog was. The one that went nuts and alerted us to the intruder. “He’s right there.” I said, and pointed to Edgar who was out cold. Puzzled, one of the cops exclaims, “Sir, we just came into this room brandishing guns, with flashlights and making lots of noise, and he’s laying there sleeping!” “Yeah,” I said, “He’s real easy like that. A mellow guy.”

Two days later, they caught the guy. It turned out that he had in fact, abducted the little girl from the troubled home. He kept that defenseless child in a box overnight. While in custody, the police found five boxes that he had built for reasons that I can’t even entertain, because they scare me so much. I remember feeling so angry, and questioning how human beings like this can exist in the world. But, after learning more about him and hearing from people around town about his childhood, and his environment, I came to accept that he was a sick and troubled individual.

The night the little girl was abducted, Edgar and I were up until 12:30am watching the Washington Capitals lose to the Carolina Hurricanes in game seven, despite double overtime. They’re my favorite team in the NHL and I was going to watch until the end. I let Edgar out to pee and when I opened the door to let him back in, he was a no show. That was unusual since he’s got it really good with us and always comes right back in at night. Our yard is pretty big and I couldn’t see him, but I could hear him barking. I ventured out and I spotted him over in the corner going ape shit at absolutely nothing. He wouldn’t come to me, so I had to grab him by the collar and run him back to house.

During the course of their investigation, the police told me that the young man had been casing houses for awhile and getting himself familiar with the girls that lived in them. He was able to describe my children perfectly and confessed to having come to our house first, the night he took the little girl. Edgar had scared him off, he told the cops. Our dog saved my children, not once, but twice.

Here’s the crazy thing about my boy, Edgar. Our house came with this huge wood shop where I build my furniture and when we moved in, I wanted to get a dog right away. Instead my wife, who’s a cat person, gave me a chicken. Rosalita, lasted for about a year and I continued lobbying hard for a dog, but to no avail, or so I thought. My wife often took our girls to the local animal shelter. While she volunteered, the girls would play with the dogs and cats. One day she sat me down and told me about this dog named, Edgar. My cat loving wife said that there was something about him that just spoke to her. She said that she and the girls loved him and needed him to be a part of our family. I visited him twice and I was all in.

We learned that Edgar had been a stray for three years. He was at a shelter in West Virginia, but was shipped to Pennsylvania in the hopes of improving his chances of finding a home. I guess they have entirely too many hounds in West Virginia. He was in our local shelter for three months before we adopted him. Three months? He had such a great disposition and a sweet temperament. Surely, a dog like that should have been snatched up quickly, right? I thought it was strange at the time.

I don’t think that anymore. It’s clear to me now that Edgar’s journey was always meant to end with us. He is our God Shot. But, you can just call him the Dude.

 

 

Edgar on his throne.

 

 

 
 
At the shelter meeting his new family.
 
 

 

 

 

Cuddling with his dad and sisters.

 

 

 
 
 
 Fom homeless to haute couture.

 

 

 

 

 

The face that kept evil away.

 

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  66. Anonymous October 8, 2021 Reply

    Loved this story! God brought Edgar to you and he is precious❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

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  67. Marina Sarto September 22, 2021 Reply

    Thanks, your story was scary and touching at the same time. I have been lobbying for a new dog to join our family since our sweet Am Staff Friday passed away. Maybe your story will help.

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