A Dog's Heart

The first canine in my life that I remember was Lady, a beautiful collie who looked a lot like Lassie from the old television show of the same name. For as many things as I can't remember now, I remember every dog who shared their lives with me. First was Lassie the collie; Frisky the chihuahua; Cuddles the poodle; Rocky the terrier mix; Choo Choo the dachshund; Brandy the ... well, we never knew what Brandy was exactly, but she was a great dog; Coco the dachshund; Cinnamon the dachshund; Ali the Dalmatian/Lab mix; Peanut the dachshund; Julie the Lab; J.R. the dachshund; and last, but certainly not least, Oliver the dachshund. I have a plethora of sweet memories of each pup, too many to list in this post. And I also have memories of hard goodbyes with the ones who are no longer with me, whether the dogs had to eventually be re-homed because of moves or Dad's illness, or because they passed away. Yep, I've been a dog person for as long as I can remember ... I love dogs.

Those of you who are long-time readers of this blog know that Julie and Ollie are the two faithful hounds who are gracious enough to let me live with them in my little house, and yes, sometimes I think they own the house more than I do ... and I'm alright with that. This morning, I was awakened by doggie kisses ... Julie licking my arm and Oliver my chin as their tails wagged with furious happiness. I smiled as I patted their furry heads, and tears filled my eyes as I understood what they were saying to me with every kiss. "Get up, get up, get up! It's time to go potty and eat breakfast! And then it's time to play! Come on, old girl, come on and get up! We love you, we love you, we love you!"

After breakfast, I decided I should take advantage of the beautiful morning, so I tossed the ball for Julie and then took Ollie for a walk. It was when I got back home and was sitting on my deck drinking a cup of coffee and watching Julie and Ollie run and play in the yard that I started thinking about what it would be like if we humans had hearts like our dogs. You see, my dogs love me unconditionally ... no matter what I do, how I feel, what I say, the clothes I wear, the work I perform ... they love me unconditionally. My dogs are always happy to see me ... whether I've been out to the mailbox or away for days on a trip ... they always greet me with wagging tails and loads of enthusiasm. My dogs don't fuss at me or tell me I'm wrong or get mad and stop talking to me ... their greatest joy is being with me. My dogs appreciate me and the love I give them ... they care if I don't come home, and they sense when I am sick or sad or lonely. They are loyal and faithful and loving and trustworthy ... well, they are trustworthy as long as there isn't people food within paws' reach. The more I sit here typing about the hearts of my dogs, the more I realize that I would do well to have a heart like theirs ... the more I realize that God calls me to love unconditionally, to rejoice at homecomings, to guard my tongue and my temper, to pay attention to the needs of those around me.

I sat in church this morning and looked at the people sitting in the chairs around me, and I started thinking again about hearts ... about how true it is that only God knows my heart. Only He knows if my heart is filled with love for Him and love for others ... only He knows if my heart is loyal or true or faithful or loving or trustworthy. I used to think how cool it would be to get to heaven one day and hear God say, "Well done, Terrie ... you did some great things in your life." As I drove home from church, my eyes filled with tears once again as I acknowledged that's not what I dream about anymore ... now I pray that when I get to heaven, God will say, "Good girl, Terrie ... you had a dog's heart."