I should probably begin this post with a couple of disclaimers ... yep, I probably should ... so here goes. If you've never loved a dog as a member of your family, then you most likely won't get what I'm saying in this post. If you don't believe in God, then this post will most likely just piss you off. If the word piss offends you, then you're ... well ... you're pissed at me already. Should any of those statements/terms/conditions apply to you, you should probably skip tonight's post and check in again tomorrow. Oh, and by the way, everything in me is screaming for me to type these words regarding my previously listed disclaimers ... sorry, not sorry at ALL.
While the weather guys keep saying that the winter season is quickly approaching, I had a serious case of the doubts last Sunday when I was outside mowing my yard while wearing shorts and a t-shirt. It's not summertime hot here in KC by any means, but I've lived here long enough to know that Octobers can be bitterly cold and there can be a significant amount of snow in November. That's why when it's in the upper 50s and low 60s out here in the good old Midwest this time of year, you'll see tons of folks decked out in shorts, t-shirts and flip-flops. I know that some of my deep South pals are shaking in their winter snow boots just reading those words, by the way ... sorry, guys, but it's got to get below freezing out here before it's considered to be "cold." Unless, of course, it's in the upper 40s with a hefty dose of fierce Kansas winds ... that's flipping cold no matter where you live.
It was late last night when Ollie the wiener dog and I headed out for our walk ... it was late and it was chilly. Not chilly like I needed a coat over my long-sleeved t-shirt and Nike Therma-fit hoodie chilly, but chilly like I needed a long-sleeved t-shirt, my Nike Therma-fit hoodie, gloves and a stocking cap (that's a toboggan to my buddies back home) chilly. It was chilly enough that Ollie needed a sweater and windy enough that only one sweater would do ... his Christmas sweater with the hood. That crazy hound loves to wear sweaters, and he was more than a little excited when I grabbed his version of a hoodie off the hook in the garage. By the time we got to the end of our street, he was prancing like a show dog ... Christmas sweater with the hood pulled snugly over his ears, my Canada glow bracelet (another story for another time) clipped securely on his harness, tail wagging his body as he strutted and skipped down the road toward the trail.
Since it was late, we walked our winter route around the high school ... the same school where a week or so ago, I was deeply touched by the chalk-written quotes that lined the sidewalks. I've been working long hours for the last few weeks, including a long stint last weekend, and I needed a good long walk ... the kind of walk where I turn off my brain and just walk. Yeah, right ... like I can ever get my brain to turn off. We had only been walking a few minutes when Ollie stopped and turned and ran back to me, putting his paws on my legs and jumping up wanting me to hold him. Thinking maybe he had stepped on something and hurt his paw, I lifted him up into my arms and tried to turn him around so that I could check his feet. Ollie, however, was having none of that ... he squirmed and twisted and whined until he finally ended up with his little head tucked up against my neck and his front paws resting on my shoulders. Every time I tried to put him down, he fought like a little warrior to remain snuggled up against me ... and each time I let him stay, he wagged his tail and licked my face.
Ollie eventually decided he was ready to walk again, and we spent the next 45 minutes hoofing it in the chilly night air. It wasn't until we turned to make our way home that I suddenly realized Ollie's snuggle time earlier was about way more than my little wiener dog being cold or needing some extra attention. See here's the thing ... over the last couple of weeks, I've been asking God some pretty tough questions. Questions about patience ... wisdom ... loneliness ... compassion ... happiness ... trust ... fear ... understanding ... direction ... friendship ... identity ... sadness ... love ... and about a million or so other things as well. I stopped dead in my tracks on the sidewalk, looked down at Ollie looking back at me and realized something ... I realized something big. The truth is I've been pretty darn pissed off at God because He's not answering my questions ... actually, what I'm really pissed off at Him about is that He's not just fixing things for me ... that He's not just fixing me.
I bent over and scooped Ollie back up into my arms and kissed his furry little face as my tears began to flow. And in that moment I knew ... I knew that God sent my little wiener dog with the only answer I really need to know.
"Love never gives up.
Love cares more for others than for self.
Love doesn't want what it doesn't have.
Love doesn't strut,
Doesn't have a swelled head,
Doesn't force itself on others,
Isn't always 'me first,'
Doesn't fly off the handle,
Doesn't keep score of the sins of others,
Doesn't revel when others grovel,
Takes pleasure in the flowering of truth,
Puts up with anything,
Trusts God always,
Always looks for the best,
Never looks back,
But keeps going to the end.
Love never dies." --- 1 Corinthians 13: 3-7 from The Message
Ollie and I are going for a walk now ... you bet we are. Because sometimes, you know ... sometimes God sends a dog ... sometimes He does indeed.
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