As I promised in my recent post I've Finally Gone to the Dogs, here are the Godly Lessons I learned from a white poodle I called Munch over the two weeks (which ended yesterday) in which she was in my care:
Just like Munch loved chasing me, running from me, barking at me, and biting my toes as she and I maniacally chased each other up and down the stairs of our three-story townhouse, God, while granting me endless hours of joyous interactive fun, could also, at a moment's notice, cause me to flip head over heels onto my living room floor and die.
Just like Much totally surprised me by being able to fit through our front gate, so must I be encouraged by remembering that the inner me is considerably thinner than the outer me.
Just like Munch can't see another dog without desperately desiring to play with it, so I must yearn and even strain to be with God, only not in such a way that I whine, choke myself, and cause others to hope I don't become physically unrestrained.
Just like when Munch returns from a walk and then spends 15 minutes furiously throttling the dishrag I tied into knots so she could pretend it was one of the many birds she just spent 20 minutes being thwarted from attacking, so I must always be sure to resolutely take between my teeth my own knotty issues, and to keep chewing them over until I remember I'm starving to death.
Just like Munch can't go five steps on her walks outside without stopping to sniff and intensely concentrate on something, so I must remember with gratitude that God has seen fit to make it so that I don't go out of my mind with joy every time I see a little pile of dog You Know What on the sidewalk.
Just like over the course of a week Munch so determinedly scratched at a spot on her upper front shoulder that it became bald, red and raw, so I must remember how I, too, can take a relatively minor discomfort and, through obsessive diligence, turn it into something that ultimately causes people to take me to a doctor.
Just like if I so much as think about going into the kitchen Munch appears at my feet wondering what meal we're going to share together, so I must remember that, sooner or later, God rewards the vigilant.
Just as Munch decided straight away that her greatest nemesis was the apparently evil beagle who lives a few doors down from us, so must I remember that just because someone is cute doesn't mean I can't wish they'd explode.
Just like it's impossible for Munch not to instantly entangle herself in her leash if for a moment while walking her you sit down for a moment to enjoy the view, so I must remember that while God has me on the leash that is my love and devotion to him, I could still manage, through sheer stupidity, to choke myself to death.
Just like Munch habitually gnawed on herself in places I wish she didn't even have, so I must remember to thank God that, in his wisdom, he limited the limberness of humans.
Just like her owner returned and took Munch away, I must never forget that, no matter how much fun I'm having, all good things must come to an end.
If you would like to see Actual Footage of Munch the poodle, please feel free to suffer through at least some of the video in which she makes a cameo appearance here.