Psalm 4:8 American Standard Version (ASV)
8 In peace will I both lay me down and sleep; For thou, Jehovah,
alone makest me dwell in safety.
Cleo, our German shepherd-Labrador
mix, and I had a routine that we went through every night. If I forgot one
thing, she refused to do the next thing. When it was bedtime, she got restless.
She sighed heavily, then came over and lay down where ever I was sitting. Finally,
I’d take the hint and go to the coat closet and fetch her leash, a small
flashlight, and a plastic bag for her indiscretions. Then we walked across the
street and out into the desert beyond.
The desert is always solitary and
indeed deserted. The city lights are ever close, so our stroll was never in the
deep darkness of the desert a long way beyond us. But enough stars are actually
visible to make out the constellations. The planets do indeed wander through
the background of stars beyond. At the time, Saturn was bright in the sky and
had been sneaking up on Spica for several months.
Often coyotes were singing to the
moon all around us. On occasion we even saw one watching us boldly or slinking
slyly away. Cleo was a bit larger than even the largest coyotes, and she has a
great love of chasing them. I would slip her leash loose and watch her eagerly
give chase. She was far too old and fat and slow to get too close. But she loved
it, and the coyotes seem to love it, too. As they got to a “safe” distance,
they would stop, turn around, and watch her, sort of egging her on.
One time, years before Cleo was
born, I was walking Brenna, another of our line of dogs, when a woman appeared
from the south with a couple dogs in tow. She was surprised or even shocked by
my appearance. Our dogs were on leash, so there was no potential dog fighting.
“Oh! I’m terribly sorry. I promise
I’ll never come out here again!” She was overcome with fear.
“Don’t worry,” I answered. “You’re
not doing anything wrong and certainly in no danger. I like to walk my dog
here, too.”
“Please let me go!” she pleaded.
In her terror, she continued verbally groveling, making very little sense in
what she said.
I was surprised by her attitude. I,
an old man, was certainly not threatening her. I was at least twenty yards from
her when she saw me and was not even walking towards her, let alone pursuing
her. That she lived in fear was evident in everything she said and in every
movement she made. She turned and hastened back towards the houses and streets.
Thank You, Lord, for a feeling of safety and that every night we both lie
down and sleep.
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