The Faithfulness of Dogs

My two dogs are the most faithful, gratitude-filled, forgiving, loving, loyal creatures that ever lived. I'm sure that when they die, they will hear these words of affirmation from their Maker:

"Well done, good and faithful dog! Enter into the joy of your Master's bacon mansion!" 

No one greets you like a dog does. They are happy to see you and act like you are the best person ever, every single time you walk in the room. They jump around like you're some sort of big deal, and even if you never give them your dinner scraps, they hope against hope that perhaps THIS time you are beyond the awesomeness they already think you are, and will let them lick your plate clean (for the record, I do occasionally give them some leftover scraps, just not very often or they won't eat their normal dog food). Has anyone ever given you the benefit of the doubt like a dog does? They are unshakable in their positive outlook. 

Even when they are disciplined (after they steal my daughter's cookie out of her hand, for instance), they humbly repent by laying down beside you, placing their head on your leg, and showing remorse. But all it takes is a, "That's a good boy, oh yes you are, oh yes you are!" along with a pat on the head, and they are instantly wagging their tail, jumping around and trusting that you are the best human ever. Talk about resilience! When I get in trouble, I usually go mope around for a while, sink into despair, and pray through Psalm 88, claiming "darkness is my only friend." Not dogs. They bounce right back up with unshakable consistency, ready to embrace the immense goodness of the universe.

My dog Maggie is a mini dachshund, so her legs are about 4 inches long. She’s also 15 years old and her back isn’t as strong as it used to be. That said, she can’t jump like she used to and needs help getting up on our couch to lay down. So if she wants up, she just comes and sits at my feet, and patiently waits for me to pick her up and put her on the couch. She’ll sit there for an hour, just waiting. Of course, I don't ignore her for an hour, but there have been times when I was working on something and didn't notice her sitting there until a good 15 minutes passed. Then, when I finally notice her, she'll give me that excited awareness that I finally noticed her and prop herself so I can pick her up and put her on the couch. No anger, impatience, or sarcastic "It's about time!" glare comes from my dog. I am instantly the best person in the world for noticing her and picking her up. 

Maggie

My other dog Diesel is a mix of dachshund and something else. We got him at the animal shelter after he was abandoned in a field. He's never quite recovered, and has been a timid, fearful dog ever since we adopted him. But even though he is always afraid, he is as gentle as could be. He often looks into your eyes and just stares, usually looking like he feels guilty and unworthy. Poor thing. I'm pretty sure in those moments he is thinking, "Just love me with sausage and snuggles. You're the best human ever."

Diesel

This is why dogs are definitely superior to cats (which are quite moody and entitled) and are quite possibly superior to humans (which have accomplished great things, but are also responsible for government computers). You just can't get treated this well by anyone else. Dogs are loyal to the end.

So when I think of faithfulness, my dogs come to mind. They actually inspire me to be a better human. What if we treated each other with the utmost dignity, hoping against hope for the best in each other, and giving each other the best benefit of the doubt the way a dog does? What if we waited patiently for each other, expressed superior gratitude just to be acknowledged by another, and refused to hold grudges? 

The world would be a better place.