It’s Simple Really (A Dog Love Story)

 

My Bernese Mountain Dog, Penny.

It is five in the morning and I can’t sleep.  I thought I’d have a cup of coffee and write.  Both are proving difficult because my giant bear of a dog, Penny, keeps knocking my elbows with her nose.  She wants love.  If you’re up, I’m up, so let’s be together, she seems to say.  

Our Penny, or Penelope Mae, is a Bernese Mountain Dog— a hundred-pound Swiss working dog with a long, tri-color coat in black, white and brown.  Her breed is the shaggy mascot of many a vacuum or allergen medication commercial, or of Christmas in the Alps.  For the latter, they are often pictured pulling a red sleigh or a freshly-cut Christmas tree through the snow, usually on a greeting card or dish towel or coffee mug. 

Occasionally, I endure criticism about my choice of dog.  For one thing, our Alpine farm hand lives in Austin, Texas.  For another, she sheds.  A lot.  I work very hard at sweeping and mopping our floors, and I never win.  Thirdly, everything she does is BIG.  How does she greet someone at the door?  She knocks them over.  How does she jump into a chair?  She moves it back four feet.  How many doggy waste bags should you take when you walk her?  You get the idea.

And yes, I see all of these well-reasoned points against my dog.  But I made my choice of dog knowing these things, and I chose her anyway.  Twice.  

My first Berner, Bree, was Derek’s and my first love.  She was our pre-baby pet, and the object of all the overflow of our newlywed hearts.  In my early career days when I was green at the courthouse, she calmed my pre-trial nerves every Sunday night.  On days Derek travelled for work, she filled his spot in bed.  On days I returned home deflated, she met me at the door with tail wagging, bringing with her hope and healing.  She saw the lives of Camden and Ellie enter and fill our family, and she turned three different houses in two different cities into our “home.”  The day she died, a warm light left our house, and a dark hole replaced it.  

Until Penny.  Who every day diminishes the darkness, bit by bit, and steadily heals our family by being unapologetically her own dog, worthy of our whole hearts in this our next chapter of life.

You’d think when we got our second one, most people would realize we were serious about Berners.  I mean, we’d done the entire life span of one, and signed up for the second.  But no.  Still they say, “Goodness, I don’t know how you deal with all that ____ (cost).” 

My college roommate used to say, “You make time for those things you truly want,” on her way out the door to the gym.  And from the couch over my bowl of Easy Mac, this struck me as wise.  For the purposes of this post I might adapt it slightly to say: “You make allowances for those things you truly love.”  And there’s the deeper magic that the critic misses and the dog owner knows.  The critic can’t possibly assess the cost-benefit ratio.  They aren’t in love with this dog.  You can measure the dog hair in the dust pan, but you can’t measure the joy and love in the home. 

We as people love to question each other’s choices.  We think things like, “why does that parent continue to do what they do for that child, because (cost, cost, cost).”  But isn’t the answer to “why that price?” always, “Yes but, love.” 

I know for me, when asked why I brought Bree home all those years ago knowing I’d lose her nine or ten years later, my answer is “yes, but I loved her.”  And when asked why, knowing how badly it hurt to lose her, I brought Penny home with all the same costs and requirements, my answer is “yes, but I love her.”  

This must be true for God, too.  If you asked Him whether or not He really cares about you, or whether or not you matter to this expansive world, or whether every mess you’ve made finally does mean that you cost too much, I am certain I know His answer.  He made his choice about you knowing the end from the beginning, and every moment in between, and made the choice anyway.  Twice.  

The sun is rising now.  My dog is still at my side.  And God loves us anyway, despite the cost.  It makes me want to nudge Him on the elbow and say: You’re up, so I’m up.  Let’s be together. 

Penny and me
Our old dog, Bree

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