Thank You for Dogs

Early this morning, my faithful companion, Moses, and I went for a slow and brief walk. Brief because he simply cannot go very far, and slow, well, you've probably got the idea. Moses is now over 11 years old, growing increasingly gray, and really slowing down dramatically. Right now, he is sprawled at my feet, resting, ever resting, and contented and peaceful. Life for Moses centers around his family and his favorite words--"breakfast," "pill" (which he loves--even the ones the vet claims he will hate--Ha, he devours them!), "snack," "treat" (come to think of it, some of these are among my favorite words as well), and "ride in the car?" Life's simple pleasures. Give Moses his family and his food and life is awfully good.

But this morning I really noticed how dramatically he is slowing down. And it just makes me so sad. We adopted Moses when he was 5 years old, and I've already written about that amazing Christmas day. What a joyous time and a glorious memory--thank You Lord! I don't know who was more excited--the children or us parents. Neither my husband nor I slept a wink Christmas Eve, for we knew we had the greatest Christmas gift and surprise the children had ever gotten. And we did, and he was. And Moses has continued to be one joyous gift to our family, day after day after day.

There is just nothing like a dog.

So while I felt mighty low this morning as I contemplated the terrible inevitability of one day losing sweet Moses, I also experienced profound gratitude at a God who would give His children even this--the unconditional love of a dog. His mercies are new every morning, and His goodness and grace comes in so many varied shapes and sizes--from the staggering beauty of this world to the sound of music to the laughter of loved ones to the loyal companionship of a dog. And then, of course, the greatest gift of all: salvation and eternal life given by an extravagant God who loves to shower His own with gifts upon gifts. Thank You Lord.

Right now, I thank You for Moses. For as long as we may have him, we thank You for the reminder of Your love and faithfulness evidenced even in the gentle brown eyes of our sweet old black lab. And when the time comes for us to say goodbye to this precious gift, we thank You, too, for the ever sweeter memories of love and loyalty from an ever faithful four legged friend. For every tear we will shed, and there will be many, there will be a blessing of memories of this joyous gift of Moses.

I close with the words of one of my favorite writers, G.K. Chesteron, on dogs:

But there is something deeper in the matter than all that, only the hour is late, and both the dog and I are too drowsy to interpret it. He lies in front of me curled up before the fire, as so many dogs must have lain before so many fires. I sit on one side of that hearth, as so many men must have sat by so many hearths. Somehow this creature has completed my manhood; somehow, I cannot explain why, a man ought to have a dog. A man ought to have six legs; those other four legs are part of him. Our alliance is older than any of the passing and priggish explanations that are offered of either of us; before evolution was, we were. You can find it written in a book that I am a mere survival of a squabble of anthropoid apes; and perhaps I am. I am sure I have no objection. But my dog knows I am a man, and you will not find the meaning of that word written in any book as clearly as it is written in his soul.

Thank You, Lord, for Moses, and for all the dogs that bring such sweet companionship and joy to so many. They are all just another pale reflection of Your glorious goodness and grace. To God, our Giver of all good gifts, be all the glory.