Why I Need a Dog
Sometimes I imagine a conversation between the Father and Jesus that went like this:
Father: I think we should give Gina a dog.
Jesus: I don’t think she would like that. I think she would find it disruptive.
Father: Exactly.
Jesus: Oh, this is going to be fun.
Oh yes, she’s been disruptive. She’s required countless hours of training, walking, feeding. She has woken me at 4 am many times to throw up whatever it was she indiscriminately ate on the street the day before. Always 4 am.
We have shelled out crazy dollars to fly her around the world and attempt to diagnose various mysterious illnesses she seems to have. We have lived out the cliche of “everyone in the family wants a dog, but mom ends up taking care of her.”
And at the end of the day, I need it.
I need a dog to remind me that I am not as important as I think I am, and neither are the tasks from which she takes me.
I need a dog to slow me down, make me take walks around the neighborhood, go outside early in the morning and breathe.
I need a dog to show me how to love people well – to always greet them at the door like they’re the best thing that’s happened today, to stay close to them wherever they go, to depend on them for what you need.
I need a dog who burps in my face, and sticks her tongue out at me, and runs around like a Tasmanian devil, to make me laugh when I least expect it.
Disruptive? Yes. Fun? Absolutely. Just what I need? Yep.