Tag Archives: Dog Tales

Daily Bread

14 Wednesday Oct 2009

Posted by in Life at Home, Prayer, Soul Care

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“Give us this day our daily bread.”

I’ve carried around this ancient prayer passage  as I’ve attended to the day’s  tasks.

Yesterday I foolishly imagined that today would be spacious, a day without demands, a day to spend however I pleased.  Instead, Max, who is still not well, put me into motion early.  I know Max is very sick because — among other symptoms — Max, who loves bread more than meat, refused to take a bite of my morning toast. 

So Max is spending the day at the clinic, being pampered and treated by a veterinary team that adores him.  Max is always glad to see old friends, though today, Max was counting on a short visit rather than an all day affair.  But with his weight now down 5 to 6 pounds, Max needs a solution soon.  And though we learned the source of Max’s problem on Monday, it’s taking a little effort to put Max back on the road to recovery.

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Daily Bread for Many Days

So the day that was to be spacious has been full of tasks, included the dreaded monthly grocery shopping.  Other shopping, much more satisfying, took me to two different locations for the purchase of bread.  I buy our everyday sandwich bread at  Big Sky Bakery in Nichols Hills.  Then I shop at a local Vietnamese supermarket for fresh baquettes.  These miniature loaves are the best bread bargain in town at thirty-five cents each.   And from the looks of my bounty, it’s easy to see I went a bit overboard.

I am comforted by the smell and taste of bread.  I serve few meals without it.  But as I moved through the hours of the day, I began to think about bread as a metaphor for other everyday necessities.  Right now and for the next few days, Max’s daily ‘bread’ will be IV fluids, as our veterinarian attempts to stabilize Max’s electrolytes.   For me, it’s a bit of quiet time in the morning, usually with some reading as a source of spiritual nourishment.  Then later in the day, crazy as this might sound, it’s sweeping all my downstairs floors.  It’s amazing how much better I feel about life with tidy floors.  In some mysterious way, clean floors allow me to face whatever else life wants to throw at me. 

I share this same sentiment about Jesus the Christ, who dared one ancient day to tell this outlandish bit of good news to any who would receive it:  “I am the bread of life.”  Just like manna, there’s no reason to stockpile the bread of life; it’s always in my pantry when I need it.

Bone Chills

11 Sunday Oct 2009

Posted by in Life at Home, The Great Outdoors

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Our cold and damp weather reminds me of cold winter days in south Texas.  Because of high humidity, a  mid-forty temperature ‘down there’ feels just as cold as below freezing temperatures do here in central Oklahoma.  This holds true even when a frigid wind whips down the plain.  But no matter where, I am chilled to the bone by a cold damp day.  

Today we took Max to a veterinary emergency clinic.  Laying on the cold floor of the waiting room, Max too was chilled to the bone.  His chills sent me out to the car to retrieve a comfy old afghan for Max to lay on.  Our mild-manner poodle boy has been listless and limp for the last thirty-six hours.  Just like a baby, the health of this particular dog goes down fast and usually, bounces back just as fast.  But not so this time.

Usually it’s me that makes the call that it’s time for the vet.  Even when raising children, my husband rarely thought the kids were sick enough to take to the pediatrician.  But today,  like a good wife, I planted the seed that it might be vet time for Max.  When I gave my husband a choice to wait or make the call, he chose to wait.  An hour later, I pulled out the seed a second time, this time leaving less room for choice.  In talking it over, we discovered  my husband had misunderstood me the first time;  he thought we were waiting for a call from our regular vet.  Lord have mercy.  Will my husband and I ever communicate well? 

The scary news on Max is that after blood and urine work, the on-call vet doesn’t know the source of Max’s illness.  What they do know is that Max is dehydrated and that the blood test seems to point to kidney disease.  An ultrasound may reveal the cause, but the doctor advised us to wait until Max is hydrated before running the test.  So we left our sad poodle boy to the experts for an overnight stay, to see if they can make Max all well again.

This dog of ours has faced and overcome so many health issues in his young life.  And I wonder, as my eyes tear up, if Max can fight off another claim on his precious life.  In the quiet of the waiting room, I noticed that my husband was no longer reading his book.  When I ask him to share his thoughts, I find that he too is trying to wrap his mind around the diagnosis called kidney disease and wondering where this will take us.  And Max. 

But no matter where, I am chilled to the bone at the scary words ‘kidney disease’ and the mere thought of losing this poodle boy of ours.  On this point, my husband and I are of one mind.  No words are needed.

The Doggie Trinity

10 Saturday Oct 2009

Posted by in Life at Home, Soul Care

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Even in my wildest dreams, I never thought I’d wake up one day to find myself living with three rambunctious dogs.

Life with three young dogs — the oldest turned two in May — reminds me of those never-a-dull-moment days of young family, when my husband and I were raising four children.  But instead of eight legs, it’s twelve; and instead of being thirty-something, my husband and I are teetering close to the golden years of senior discounts.

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Cosmo, our Holy Terror Terrier

To their credit, the dogs do their part to keep us active and healthy.   Three times a day they remind us it’s time to eat —  Cosmo especially likes her grub.  Then they remind us to relax and pet our pets, to relieve the stress lint picked up from everyday life.  Max especially lines up for rubs.  And finally the dogs remind us when its time to exercise, to venture outdoors for a walk  around our Mesta Park neighborhood.  Maddie especially likes her dubs.   So thanks to our doggie trinity, we live a balanced life of grub, rubs and dubs.

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Queen Mother Madeleine

Dub is our family shorthand for the letter “W”, which stands for the word ‘walk.’   It was once  secret code known only to the human half of the family. But being the smart dogs poodles are, Maddie and Max have learned that Dub means walk. And whenever the “DUB” alarm is heard, all canine heaven breaks open:  Maddie begins her dizzy circus pirouettes, Max starts lumbering through the house like a wild beast unleashed and Cosmo goes zoom, zoom, zoom as she effortlessly threads poodle and human legs like Sonic the hedgehog on a video game obstacle course.  Our version of the Wild West Show leaves us in the middle of doggie mayhem, with leashes in hands and canines circling us like wild Indians.

Members of  our doggie  trinity each know their role.  Maddie is our holy mother — holy in the sense of being set apart from the pack.  Maddie rules her canine kingdom from her throne that once upon a time, was my husband’s favorite recliner.  Max is Maddie’s adopted son, the lover of all guests.

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Maximilian -- Loved and Lovers of a Billion

  

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Holes - Work in Process

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Who Needs Termites when you have a Terrier?

Max stands ready to offer his poodle love — even if Max has to put his paws on your chest or shoulder to do it.  But if guests are shy about receiving french kisses, they should keep their mouths shut.  Cosmo’s mission in life is to make holes.  When she’s not charming the socks off of our guests, she’s chewing a hole in a sock.   Or digging a hole in the garden.  Or chewing a hole in my back door frame.  Or gnawing a hole in my stairwell post.  Cosmo our holy terror, is the cannine child I don’t dare take my eyes off for a minute.    

A good friend recently reminded me that dog spells god backwards.  And I’m beginning to think  this sharing of three letters is no mere coincidence.  Because I know unconditional love when my dogs soft wet eyes meet mine; and this reminds me that God beholds me with soft eyes too, and that I should regard myself a whole lot more tenderly —  especially during all those times that I’m being well…..so human.  

So I wonder:  Is it possible that we who live on this side of eternity come closest to experiencing the love of heaven when keeping company with a dog?  As I ponder life with our doggie trinity  — that Mother, Son and Holy Terror — I’m thinking yes.