A Keeper

Returning items to a store is something I'm not good at ... even if the dish is broken, the blouse doesn't fit, or the tool doesn't work ... I simply do not like returning things. Some people, however, are what I would deem "professional take backers" who seem to delight in the whole process of making purchases and then returning those purchases a few days or weeks later. And honestly, I don't understand that behavior at all, not even a little bit. Why on earth would anyone consider it "fun" to wait in line to buy something, take it home, decide it's not what you want, and then wait in another line to return it? Lest some of you think my house is filled with broken, too small, non-working items, let me assure you that I do return things when I have to ... I just don't like to do it.

The whole take it back or throw it away mentality of many in our society today is something I've thought a great deal about recently. I heard a mother in a store a couple of weeks ago say to her young daughter, "Don't worry about it ... it's only $35 ... if it doesn't work for your party, we'll just pitch it ... it's not a big deal." Sorry, but not only is $35 a big deal to me, I have some giant issues with just throwing something away if it's not perfect.

It's been a week since I brought Oliver Chance the wiener dog home ... Ollie for short. And over the last week, I've discovered that he's not perfect. In the home he was removed from, he was kept outside in a cage with a concrete pad, so he peed on my recycling can in the garage and pooped on the sidewalk for the first few days. Since he was so emaciated when he was rescued, the lady who cared for him fed him table food to put some weight on him, so now he begs for my food. He wanders all over the trail when we go for a walk and barks like crazy when he's out in my back yard. He's kind of odd looking with the scars on his face and his weird little pink nose. He isn't perfect by any means.

But ... he has brought life back to Julie, and they play until they are both exhausted and then curl up together and go to sleep. He follows me all over the house and showers me with kisses as many times as I'll let him lick my chin. He snuggles in as close as he can to me in my bed and sleeps all night with his little paw on my neck. He's happy all the time, and his tail wags his whole body. He loves little kids and other dogs and playing with a tennis ball. He knows how to sit, stay and lay down, and he loves, loves, loves riding in the car. And ... Julie and I have decided that he's staying ... actually, Ollie made it obvious within the first couple of days that he had found his new home and had no intention of leaving.

I can't help but think about my own imperfections ... the things in me that would cause others to return me or pitch me out. But God looks past my undesirable habits, my wandering off His path, my yelping into the wind, and He invites me to come home with Him, to rest in His arms, to find my joy just by being with Him. The truth is that God doesn't mind that I have scars or some weird-looking physical traits ... He made me who I am, and He loves me just as I am.

So ... Ollie is a keeper. Someone wise far beyond her years told me something last week that I can't shake from my mind. She said, "Terrie, God sent J.R. to save your body, and he stayed with you until he knew you could go on without him. I think maybe God has sent Ollie to save your heart, and I think he's going to stay with you a really long time." I'd like to think that maybe J.R. had a paw in choosing Ollie ... I'd really like to think that he did.

Definitely a keeper.