Dog Walking and Terror

 

[1]

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.

 

 

---

[1] https://external-content.duckduckgo.com/iu/?u=https%3A%2F%2Ftse1.mm.bing.net%2Fth%3Fid%3DOIP._6oRDiZBYfh4V7VuUe_VIAHaEb%26pid%3DApi&f=1&ipt=67572bdf60898b97f1494ba51058ec7f616bc3670dd0efaa2216ac2d1c5e8393&ipo=images

When we lose good things

Job 1:21

Good News Translation (GNT)

²¹ He said, “I was born with nothing, and I will die with nothing. The Lord gave, and now he has taken away. May his name be praised!”

Cleo, our half Alsatian half black Labrador, and I take a walk out into the desert hills every night before we go to bed. We’ve done this for over fourteen years now. She runs, chases the occasional coyote, and uses the desert as her personal toilet. She looks forward to this with eager anticipation every evening.

Some years ago Karen moved into a house on the corner we go by every evening. She often sat out on her tiny patio in the evening. Every evening that she was out there she had a few treats that she gave to Cleo. She kissed and welcomed her, and Cleo loved it. I told Karen, “It’s all cupboard love,” but she loved it−as did Cleo. On the nights that Karen wasn’t there, Cleo still studied the patio carefully, hoping that Karen would suddenly appear. If I didn’t happen to have her leash on her, Cleo would race over and inspect the patio carefully, undoubtedly hoping that Karen would appear or that she might have abandoned a treat there.

This autumn Karen bought a house in a different part of the city. Her move to this permanent address doesn’t faze Cleo’s eager searching for Karen and the former treats she used to receive. I’ve explained to the new residents of that home the reason for Cleo’s sudden appearance on their patio. So they tolerate her quick inspection very graciously.

Every time I watch Cleo’s vain excitement, I’m reminded that everything that I regard as precious will eventually be taken away, including life itself.

Thank You gracious Lord for all You do for me. When these are taken away, may I respond with the gratitude of Job, “May Your Name be praised!”