“There is peace even in the storm.” – Vincent van Gogh
Regardless of breed, age or gender, I think there are some things that all dogs love – or can at the very least, tolerate.
Exhibit A: A belly rub. When those pups are laid out on their backs, getting their belly’s scratched and tickled, they relish in the attention. It’s at that moment where time seems to freeze, and so do they, for fear that any sudden movement could end their good fortune.
There are some things that our dogs can’t stand – or at the very least, could do without.
Exhibit B: Certain “human” food. Susie can’t stand the taste of bananas, but I’m not sure if that’s an ‘all-dogs-don’t-like-bananas’ thing, or a ‘she’s-just-being-bougie’ thing.
But, if there is to be one great leveler – the one thing that all dogs hate – it would, without a doubt, have to be…
Exhibit C: Thunderstorms.
Susie – who used to be an outdoor dog – has slowly found her way back inside, where she now resides full time. And although she enjoys roaming through the house to check the perimeters (& fart), she knows that there are some places in the house that are simply off limits to her. Case in point – our bedroom.
So when night falls and we head back to our room to get ready for bed, she knows that we must say our ‘goodnights’ at the bedroom door. To step beyond that door would be to penetrate the invisible forcefield that prohibits her from crossing that threshold. She may not love it, but she does try to respect it.
But let there be a thunderstorm a-brewin’ and all bets are off. While she is fully aware of the rule surrounding our room, she is willing to risk it all, consequences be darned. In her mind, she knows that if she’s in close proximity to her humans, the thunder can roar all it wants, but she will be safe.
Which reminded me of a passage of Scripture I recently read —
“The name of the Lord is a strong tower; the righteous run to it and are safe.” – Proverbs 18:10
Too often, when the storms of life hit, I may be tempted to try and stand my ground, convinced that I can handle it on my own. I end up running away from the very One I should be running to.
While her hearing is all but gone, her eyesight unreliable and her memory fleeting, she will always remember this truth. Susie knows that she is safe in our presence, because she trusts that we will take care of her.
Just like I know that in the presence of the Lord, there is fullness of joy (Psalm 16:11).
Or that, as Psalm 46:1-2 tells me, God is my refuge and strength, promising to be an ever-present help in trouble and reminding me that I should not fear.
So there she laid. Sprawled out on her makeshift bed on the floor of our bedroom, her breathing finally returned to normal. The thunder still raged on, but she didn’t care. Because she knew she was safe.
And I’m pretty sure she just farted.