Life lessons from God, through my dog's eyes

Meet Bailey.

Cute, right? I think she might be the most adorable Goldendoodle puppy in the world. Not like I'm biased or anything.

Bailey is currently 5 months old. In puppy land, that's almost equivalent to the "terrible two's" of children - old enough to know the basics of what you should and shouldn't do, but not totally able to physically stop herself from chewing on your shoe while she looks at you with those adorable puppy eyes, saying "You love me, right?"

I mean, how can anything that sleeps like this wreak havoc on your house between approximately 9-10 p.m. daily? We affectionately call this time of day puppy zoomie time. If you've ever seen a dog go crazy over nothing, you know what the zoomies are - running in circles with no destination, with a crazy look in their eyes, running into furniture and barking at nothing, because they just have so much ENERGY and don't know how to handle it. But when the zoomies have passed, we go out for her last walk of the night. Bailey loves being outside, but she doesn't love the dark. We had her for at least 6 weeks before we could get her to cross the road and walk out of sight of the house, and you'd think that our safe suburban cul-de-sec was crawling with the aliens from Signs with how she spooks when the neighbors take their garbage out. Even though it's easy to get irritated with her when she's trying to nip the backs of your knees while you walk, trying to get you to play, it's impossible to be mad when wants you to protect her from the evil trash cans every Tuesday night. 

Sometimes Bailey's relationship with me reminds me of my relationship with God. I am thankfully more potty trained than Bailey, but in God's eyes, I'm still a young'un with a lot to learn. As a human, I tend to make mistakes, and sometimes do things that I know are bad, without realizing until after the fact that I even did them. I'm not fully "trained" yet - and I think that my "training" to follow God's will for me will be something I'll be working on for the rest of my life. But even so, God still loves me, in his always-and-forever, perfect, selfless loving way that only He can do; He protects me when I'm scared, feeds my soul, and shows me how to love.

 With puppies, like so many things, patience is a virtue, and a struggle. Bailey's current favorite toy is a stuffed hippo (well, it's supposed to be a hippo... it looks more like a worm) with not one, but two squeakers in it. Now that her mouth is big enough, she's been blessed with the talent of making both of them squeak at once, the sound of which is probably equivalent to a dying duck jumping on a small accordion. When you sit down on the couch after a long day and the first thing that lands in your lap is that hippo toy, it's hard to be patient. But I try to be patient with her, out of love, like God is patient with me when he's trying to teach me a lesson or get me to focus on something. And in turn, she is (relatively) patient with me when I make her wear a little something festive.

Bailey is happy with the basics. She's perfectly content with her kibble, water, and the occasional ice cube or bacon-flavored treat. Despite the 26374846 dog toys that are always strewn all over the floor, she's happy with just her hippo toy, a bone, and one of my dad's old golf towels (we're still not sure why it's so appealing to her, but whatever works). She has more fun snuggling with her family or playing catch with you than chewing on a toy alone in the corner - unlike what many of us tend to do when we watch TV by ourselves or sit around playing video games instead of board games with our family. For dogs, life is simple, it's not based on success or how much cool stuff you have -- it's about being around the people you love, being joyful, and enjoying the little things, like feeling the wind in your hair or getting to say hi to a neighbor.

But God isn't always the owner, and we're not always the puppy - sometimes it's the other way around.

Puppies are so joyful. When there's leaves on the ground and the wind is blowing them around the yard, Bailey is just as happy chasing them in circles as she would be if she won the lottery and got paid in bacon. I wish it was that easy for people to feel and express that kind of joy, especially over the simple things. Sure, she looks a little silly standing at the end of the driveway with her eyes closed and the wind blowing through her shaggy fur (picture the Titanic scene at the front of the boat, but with dogs) - but you can tell she's happy just being in that moment and appreciating God's gift of nature. In her own way, she's teaching me to pay more attention to the world and be thankful for the little blessings that we get every day, or life's small accomplishments (like finding the perfect puppy-sized hiding spot on our kitchen's cookbook shelf). God tries to teach us to be more joyful in these little things too

Bailey is forgiving, and loyal. Some people think that dogs are like this because they're "stupid" or have short attention spans (these people have never witnessed a puppy manage to find a way through the bars on a baby gate). But dog owners know that they are like this because of their ability to love unconditionally. Yes, it hurts them when you accidentally step on their tail, but they don't run and hide in the corner for the rest of the day if it happens - they keep loving you anyway. God's love for us is like that, and so, so much more. He wants to be close to you, for you to love Him back, to be your best friend, and to show you joy in the world. Let Him.