Kaizer, our 100 pound lap-dog, can suck the negativity and anger right out of anyone, his enthusiasm for life fills a room when he enters it; as does his enormous head, long and lean body, and huge feet. His tail can be compared to nuclear energy; it is meant for good, but when it’s near a coffee table where any breakables are on display – the incredible force of his nonstop, speed-of-light tail can only leave destruction and heartache behind. He is one of two dogs whose home we share (note the implied ownership – they hold the mortgage and have never made a payment), and without them our home seems empty and too quiet. Kaizer is a good dog (and Harley – so are you).
We have had sickness in our home, from cancer to the common cold. Dogs know when someone is sick, and how deep the intensity of the illness. If a family member is sick, Kaizer, if allowed, will lay next to the person, not demanding attention or to be petted, but to give warmth and love. He will lay still, eyes open, watching for any sign of need from the sick one, eager to do anything to help. At night, Kaizer has his choice of sleeping locations; two large dog beds are strategically located throughout the home insuring minimal steps to a resting place. There are also four sofas and four beds equipped with pillows – Kaizer believes he owns them and rents the space to us. Yet at bedtime, with all the good places to rest, if everyone isn’t home he waits near the front door, and watches until he is either called to bed, or the last one of us comes home. His job is to protect his family, and he takes his profession seriously.
His favorite toy is a stick – his favorite game is fetch. Kaizer is a renaissance dog, believing in old fashion simple values. Fetch the stick. Keep fetching the stick until the master is completely worn out, and then eat the stick. Repeat.
He is not perfect. On occasion, he mistakes the carpet for a section of sod from the backyard. When confronted with this confusion, his shame and sincere need for forgiveness is evidenced by a motionless tail, swept back ears, and drooping head. After a brief lesson on how to differentiate carpet from grass, forgiveness is quickly given.
The relationship between your dog, family and home is unique, special, and cherished. Thinking about the relationship from your dog’s perspective can be very interesting:
“In my Father’s house there are many rooms. Each is warm, inviting and comfortable – full of joy and peace.”
“I want for nothing in my Father’s house – all is provided to the fullest extent of my desires.”
“I never want to anger my Father, or do anything that may displease Him, not for fear of punishment, but because His love for me deserves the best from me.”
“I did not earn my way into my Father’s house; it was given to me freely through His generosity.”
Can a dusty, shedding, constantly eating, big headed dog teach us something about our relationship with God? Maybe. Absolutely, there is a lot we can learn from a good dog.
Thanks for reading.