Friday, March 30, 2012

Unconditional and strong

Today is something completely different.

Today is dog-day morning (and afternoon).

We have five dogs, and I know, I know, I know. It is too many. But it goes to our lack of discipline and our way too big hearts. This is their story.

The oldest is Logan, born in 2000. I know this because my youngest daughter, Carrie, named Logan after the Wolverine character in the movie X-Men. She is of a golden-hue, part Golden Retriever and part something way different. She is a medium-sized dog who is entirely too wrapped up in eating. She is greedy, and far too often thinks she is a big dog. She has been beaten in squabbles too often over time.

The second-oldest is Paris, or Baby Girl. She was a gift from Carrie, who couldn't care for her for reasons that disappear into my mind. She's a sweety, as well. SHe loved our dear Frankie, a weiner, who passed two years ago, so much and has transferred that love onto Logan. Often you will see Logan lying on the floor with Paris lying on Logan. She sleeps in the crook of my back, and I awoke this morning and my first thought was what will I do when she inevitably passes. She looks amazingly like the Taco Bell pup.

Then there are the rescues. Samantha is a wide -load mut. I awoke from a back procedure a couple years back to tell Mary, my wife, we were going to the pound to save a dog. We asked for the dog that had been there the longest, and Sammie came home with us. She was a thin, tall dog then. She is a wide, tall dog now. Breezy, a mini-weiner, came next. Essentially he was to be a replacement for Frankie, and I drove all the way to Picayune to pick him up from a small, ugly animal shelter. He came home placid. But apparently he had been abused by a male, and he has hated me ever since he arrived. Luckily, he loves Mary completely. He was deathly afraid of me for a while, but that has turned into mad jealousy. Finally, there is Copper a full-weiner. He is a mess, literally. He has eaten our couch, meaning we have or ant to get a new one before we move in June. We figure he's past the eating stage now, or we hope, at least.

There they are. We don't get to take as many trips as we would like. They cost us way too much money. They are an above-stated mess.

 But from dogs I've truly learned the eyes thing. Look into a dogs eyes, good dog/bad dog it does't matter. What you will see there is love, as I define it.

 Love is a complete letting go. Love is surrendering to someone whether they are good to you or not. Love is being confined all day by oneself and yet loving the person who did the confining. Love is even going beyond abuse to find something in common and something to lovve about the abuser. Love is, well, agape. It is not earned. it is not bought. Love is unconditional. Love is Jesus, the great shepherd, who died so that we might live.

I have to believe there were dogs (and cats, but that's another story, on the Ark. Something had to keep the Noahites laughing.

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