Our dog Taffy had to be put to sleep in December and we were very sad. But she did live happily more than 16 years, contributing to many fine sermon illustrations and leaving us with fond memories. (We attribute her longevity, in part, to being inoculated against worse ailments when years ago she ingested too many of Dan Brown's brownies. We're sure the Browns remember this incident since they were staying in our home while we were away. They had the joy of discovery!)
We knew for some time that Taffy was terminal and we asked Bob Beede, a vet friend of ours, to be on the lookout for an adult dog for us to adopt. We thought we could do without a dog but didn't think Carolyn's mother could. (She owns our dogs jointly with us since she is not allowed pets where she lives.)
Bob called one October day to say he knew of a Westie (they look a little like a white Scottie) who had been a show dog and had produced several litters of puppies. The owners who operate a kennel business and raise all sorts of dogs needed to get rid of this seven year old. Bob had cared for her and assured us she was very loving. So we went out to pick up our new little bundle of white fur. And then the fun began.
Dolly is certainly a people dog and very loving. She made us smile a lot and really worked her way into our hearts quickly. She liked us and wanted to be with us and that made us happy. What we didn't realize until later is that dogs raised in kennels have had a different life.
Dolly didn't understand the difference between carpet and grass at first. And we looked out the kitchen window one day early on to see her on her back rolling vigorously from side-to-side in all the blooming flowers, and not feeling bad about it one bit. The first night we got her we decided to watch the news and eat dinner from our TV trays. While David was in the kitchen Dolly jumped on the couch and started his lasagna! During Dolly's first week with us, Carolyn looked in the living room and was amazed to see her jump from the couch with her front paws stretched out in front of her as she made a four-point landing on the antique coffee table, sliding to a screeching halt just in time to avoid toppling off on the floor.
When we left the front door open for a minute Dolly headed off at break- neck speed, ignoring our calls and shouts. She knew how to prance around the ring but she didn't know Sit, Stay or Come. And she kept being afraid David was going to hit her. (We heard later that those raised in a kennel are "special needs" dogs.) Indeed she had had a different life.
With all this she liked to be with us and to put her furry head on our arm and look up lovingly into our eyes and to settle down and sleep near us. And we couldn't stop smiling and talking to her in ways some could think mighty odd. We are smitten.
It occurred to us that this is how God responds to us. He is pleased when we want to be with Him. He is smiling at us and loving us in a depth and way that seems unreasonable, given our antics and wanderings. He knows we have much to learn. He knows we are from a different life. He knows that if our hearts stay soft to Him He will teach us and train us in His ways and in His time.
Then we thought of how Mark describes Jesus' call to His disciples: He called them to be with Him and then to send them out (Mark 3:14). This order was and is irreversible. Sometimes that's hard for those of us in ministry to remember. Our first order of business is to be with Him, to know Him and to love Him. This is what He wants. When we put first things first we're sure He smiles from a heart warmed with love.
Dolly is learning the difference between carpet and grass. She is learning "Come" and to trust us. And we are learning in a fresh way what is most important to God.
We like how Mother Teresa puts it, "Pray for me that I not loosen my grip on the hands of Jesus even under the guise of ministering to the poor."
CDR
3/16/97