Random Dog Blog

     Do you ever wonder what dogs could say if they could talk?  No, this isn’t a very deep and meaningful write-up, but I’m not feeling very sentimental lately.  I think I’m too busy to think.  Tonight I sat down to write a blog, but didn’t have a clue what to write about, when I felt some big brown eyes boring into me.  Betty Betty Birddog or BBBD for short, does this every evening if I forget to feed her after dinner.  I sit at the computer and she assumes her position right next to my chair, rear end parked on my foot, eyes fixed on my face. 

     Tonight I looked down at her and wondered.  If she could talk, what would she be saying to me right now?  Would it be polite?  “Excuse me, Mom.  I believe you forgot to feed me my kibble.”  Or would it be more of a frustrated (I’ve had it with the service around here) kind of tone like, “Look, I don’t ask for much; just a bowl or two of dried beef nuggets every day, Lady.  Do you think you could get off of your bedonkadonk and get to it!”  Just looking at the face, I really can’t be sure what kind of expression I’m getting.  It could be either one.
     My daughter likes to talk for the dogs.  It’s pretty funny.  They both have an English accent and beg very politely and properly at the dining room table.  They ask for a spot of my meat and they always say, “Thank you Mumsy, might I have anotha?”  She actually makes them hard to resist and against everything I’ve ever learned about dogs, I find myself giving in and giving them bites.  I’m a sucker when it comes to the dogs.  Yet, even though they are spoiled rotten, they are really pretty good animals.  They can’t talk, thank goodness, but I do believe that Peanut understands English.  That’s for another story though.
     I guess if I’m going to write all of this, I should really have a point.  I was watching a documentary about a horse trainer last night called “Buck.”  It was really good.  He was a horse whisperer type, that just had a way with horses.  He just seemed to speak their language.  I never had a dog growing up.  Sure we tried a few times to have one.  We put it out in the backyard and every time we went outside it jumped all over us until we didn’t want to try anymore so we didn’t.  Soon we forgot we had a backyard or a dog.  These are the first dogs that I have ever trained and I feel like that guy Buck sometimes.  I feel like I know what they are thinking.  I love my doggies, and I talk to them all the time.  Even though I can’t really hear them talking, I feel like they talk to me.  And right now BBBD is telling me to get her dinner. 

Celebrating Us

     Sixteen years ago we said “I do.”  Love drove me down the aisle that day, and love is what keeps this bond strengthened all these years later.  I look back and I can actually see eras in our marriage.  We have had ups and downs, but we have always ridden them along side one another.  I never doubted that we weren’t a perfect fit.  I doubted myself sometimes.  My abilities as a wife or mother, I have always questioned from time to time.  I had to learn what a helpmate was and what that meant for our specific home.  But the longer I walk this road with you, the more sure I know that God picked you for me.

     Many kinds of love reside behind these four walls.  You always seem to give me what I need just in the nick of time and I only hope I have been the same constant in your life.  Forgive me if I have ever seemed dissatisfied.  Sometimes I find myself not really realizing how blessed I am with the life that God has given me.  I am ashamed of that, for every single thing that I hold in my hand is worthy of praise.  Every good thing in the life of a Christian is for the glory of God.  Even the bad things that God uses for good, so even when times were tough, it was for his glory.  It thrills my soul when I think that our union was meant for the glory of God. 
     I never want to take a day with you for granted.  I know I already have.  To focus on our life and bring to the forefront of our minds this gift of our love should be a daily practice.  To know that the strong hand that holds mine, is the hand that God meant for me to clasp brings me a rush of gratitude.  I don’t need you to have a successful career, or that house in the country.  I know you’ll never be able to read my mind or satisfy all of my fleshly desires, and that burden is not yours.  The mention of burden brings to mind that I want yours to be mine.  Please, never hold your troubles back.    My prayer this anniversary is that one day, perhaps fifty years from now, I will still feel your hand holding mine.