Good Monday Morning!
1. Question – Can I tolerate the same flat-nosed,
hairy hungry face every morning?
2. Thought – My first pet came in the form of a
childhood Christmas Eve gift. Somewhere I have a snap-shot
of a brown-and-white Chinese pug, small enough to fit in
my father’s hand, cute enough to steal my
eight-year-old heart. We named her Liz.
I carried her all day. Her floppy ears fascinated me, and
her flat nose intrigued me. I even took her to bed. So
what if she smelled like a dog? I thought the odor was
cute. So what if she whined and whimpered? I thought the
noise was cute. So what if she did her business on my
pillow? Can’t say I thought that was cute, but I
didn’t mind.
Mom and Dad had made it clear in our prenuptial agreement
that I was to be Liz’s caretaker, and I was happy to
oblige. I cleaned her little eating dish and opened her
can of puppy food. The minute she lapped up some water, I
replenished it. I kept her hair combed and her tail
wagging.
Within a few days, however, my feelings changed a bit. Liz
was still my dog, and I was still her friend, but I grew
weary with her barking, and she seemed hungry an awful
lot. More than once my folks had to remind me, “Take
care of her. She is your dog.”
I didn’t like hearing those words –
your dog. I wouldn’t have minded the phrase
“your dog to play with” or “your dog
when you want her” or even “your dog when she
is behaving.” But those weren’t my
parent’s words. They said, “Liz is your
dog.” Period. In sickness and in health. For richer,
for poorer. In dryness and in wetness.
That’s when it occurred to me. I am stuck with Liz.
The courtship was over, and the honeymoon had ended. We
were mutually leashed. Liz went from an option to an
obligation, from a pet to a chore, from someone to play
with to someone to care for.
Perhaps you can relate. Chances are you know the
claustrophobia that comes with commitment. Only instead of
being reminded, “She is your dog,”
you’re told, “He is your husband,” Or,
“She is your wife.” Or, “He is your
child, parent, employee or boss or roommate” or any
other relationship that requires loyalty for survival.
Such permanence can lead to panic – at least it did
in me. I had to answer some tough questions. Can I
tolerate the same flat-nosed, hairy, hungry face every
morning? (You wives know the feeling?) Am I going to be
barked at until the day I die? (Any kids connecting here?)
Will she ever learn to clean up her own mess? (Did I hear
an “amen” from some parents?) [Max Lucado Just
Like Jesus]
“If you work for a man, for heaven’s sake,
work for him.” Kin Hubbard