Still a Good Dog

Two nights ago, Lucky decided to go out at 5 am. and bark...and bark...and bark. Wanting my neighbors not to shoot him, or me, I got up and staggered to the back door. I called our crazy terrier in. I am pretty sure he forgot what he was barking at. He was in a groove, and just didn't know how to get out of it.

I went back to bed...but not Lucky! Lucky went wandering about, nosing over trashcans, rattling the endtables, and closing squeaky doors with his nose. When we ignored those attempts for attention at 5:30 a.m., he came over and licked my hand, and whined.

And so while I was bleary-eyed yesterday at work on my novel, guess who was sleeping all day? That's right -- the wire faced marauder of the night. He might be senile, or he might just be up at night and wants to be sure all of us are up as well. I went to bed thinking if it happened again, I may just let the neighbors shoot him.

Or maybe because he is old and his days are numbered, he just wants to "number his days aright." Maybe he just wants reassurance that he is on the right track, appreciated, and still loved. Even after knocking over ten trash cans, and waking us every hour.

It is fitting that I am reading Psalm 90 in my study today, about asking God  to "make us glad for as many days as you have afflicted us and for as many years as we have seen evil."  The psalmist cries out, apparently from the perspective of old age that he has waited a long time, and seen much evil, waiting for God to return. One gets the sense he cannot hold out much longer. If he were a dog, perhaps he too would be roaming in the darkness, making noise and begging for attention. "Someone notice! I have lived a long time, and suffered a great deal! Show me I am loved!"

I love what my husband says to Lucky when he comes continually over to him and noses his hand so he will pet him, "Yes Lucky, you are still a good dog. Just like you were a good dog 5 minutes ago, you are still a good dog. And in the next five minutes, you will still be a good dog."

If the psalmist could nudge God's hand, I bet he would hear, "Yes, you are still my beloved. Just like you were my beloved yesterday, you will still be my beloved tomorrow. You will always be my beloved."

Last night, exhausted from my vigil with Lucky the night before I slept like a log. However, I understand from my hubby that in the midst of the rain storm in he early morning, Lucky escaped. He returned drenched a couple hours later and my weary husband crated him. I wonder if he was still thinking, "You are a good dog, Lucky..."

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Psalm 90: 12-17
12 So teach us to number our days
that we may get a heart of wisdom.
13 Return, O Lord! How long?
Have pity on your servants!
14 Satisfy us in the morning with your steadfast love,
that we may rejoice and be glad all our days.
15 Make us glad for as many days as you have afflicted us,
and for as many years as we have seen evil.
16 Let your work be shown to your servants,
and your glorious power to their children.
17 Let the favor of the Lord our God be upon us,
and establish the work of our hands upon us;
yes, establish the work of our hands!