Dog is God Spelled Backward
Daisy & Sheila - My Best Friends
God's Four-Legged Masterpiece
They say God sends you a dog if you need one. I'm here to tell you that this is so. After my daughter's beagle Suzy died, my wife and I felt as though we couldn't bear to have another dog. We turned down gifts of dogs and puppies almost weekly for years. Then one day, we met Daisy and she adopted us. There was no question of taking her to the pound or giving her away. She followed me up onto the porch, put her paws in my lap and laid her head on my chest with her ear over my heart.
Satisfied with the condition of my heart, she introduced herself to my wife Sheila, the softest hearted human I know and exhibited her skinny rib-cage and patchy flea-infested coat. Before you could say “What will we name her?” there was a bowl of canned tuna and a bucket of water sitting in front of a very grateful puppy named Daisy and a shopping trip for supplies was planned. Within months the fleas were gone, her coat was sleek and black, her ribs had disappeared beneath a thick layer of fat and muscle and her sad eyes had developed a twinkle.
The dog is one of God's most interesting animal designs. They can survive in the wild in their original state or live harmoniously with human beings. In the wild, they tend to be mud brown, hunt in packs and live exclusively on what they kill. When they live with us and become tame, they change color within a few generations and develop coats of a bewildering array of spots and patches and shades.
They readily adopt us, becoming members of our pack. They accept human leadership (Daisy thinks I'm the alpha male around here- probably the only female in this house that does). They share out food, sleep at the foot or our beds, defend out property and children and love us without condition. They become less aggressive and quit attacking our sheep and cows and go to herding and protecting them. I know a couple of dogs that are practically vegetarians because their owners are. Our Daisy loves spaghetti!
It seems that virtually every natural tendency that God has built into a dog enables it to live in a symbiotic relationship with people. I say symbiotic, but it actually seems more like love. Daisy loves the very sight of us and my wife and I dote over her. When our little Suzy had to be put to sleep, the whole family showed up at the vet's and stayed with her till her suffering ended. I think we frightened the vet a little – 5 grown adults crammmed into the treatment room. He brought a children's book to us about dog's going to heaven. I don't think he had any idea what else to do in facing our collective grief.
I used to make fun of old people who talk baby talk to their dogs and tell everybody endless cute stories about stuff the dog has done. I used to make fun of them, but now, to my horror, I discover that I am one of those old people.
As I write, Daisy is sprawled across the foot of the bed. It's uncomfortable to sleep with her there, but we don't have the heart to kick her off. She goes everywhere with me and I give a tithe of my food to her. Ten percent of every sandwich winds up inside Daisy.
I tend to spoil the ones I love.
I'm just sayin'
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