Making Strides

Beloved,

        At six weeks old she's the size, shape and shade of a fat loaf of bread. Abducted from her cuddle puddle of 10 brothers and sisters she weeps for her lost family. Except Scout doesn’t weep, she wails.  She wails and flings herself against the crate door until she is hysterical and hiccuping.  So we hold her until she sleeps, sneak her back into the crate where she’ll stay an hour or so.  Then she cries and we start all over.   

Those were her first two and half nights.  Decisions made by the sleep deprived rarely make sense long term.  The teenager finally took the puppy to her own bed where they both slept 6 solid hours.  Times all three of us that’s 18 hours of bliss!  The morning seems brighter, happier, more hopeful.  

I wish our older golden, Rosie Cotton, would help.  She could snuggle her or sleep by her crate.  But she’s hurt and jealous. Maybe she feels displaced.  Maybe they are acting out some ancient rite of canine dominance.  Rosie is either standoffish or snarly, her own hysteria over perceived loss.  I try not to compare her to Cody, who let the baby Rosie chew his ears and paws.  These two will work it out, be friends eventually, cuddly even.

Relationships are always hard.  Denial of our own anxiety and neediness get in the way of trust.  We miss the very thing we need most, the grounding comfort of another person’s presence. The Creator made none of us to thrive alone.  Some trees even promulgate in circles - as if each one needs to be close to all the others.  What life we forfeit in pride and fear!

Scout has crawled into her crate for the moment and she’s even sleeping.   Maybe she’s starting to feel at home.  I pray today you know yourself well-loved.  peace & prayers, pastor annette