I'm not an animal person. I'm just not. I don't like slobber and pet hair. I really hate being licked and jumped on. My mom even got me a "pet petter" as a joke one Christmas. People assume I must not have grown up around animals. But I did. Dogs, cats, horses, hamsters, guinea pigs...I even had a bird named Tweet-Tweet for a short time. But most of that was not my doing. I was just along for the ride. And I did my best to steer clear when possible.
We did have a Golden Retriever named Lucy, who I loved. She smiled...truly smiled...at people. We got her when I was five, and she passed away when I was nineteen. As much as I disliked all of the stuff that went along with her, I loved Lucy. And I cried my eyes out when she was gone.
It's been almost twenty years, and yesterday, I found myself in the same predicament. We had to say good-bye to our Wallace. For those of you who knew him, or searched for him, or saw him on our roof, you had a special privilege. Not many dogs can say they lived as full a life as he did.
Jamie and I were in our first year of marriage, and he came home one day saying he wanted to get a puppy. My response? "Can't we just go ahead and have a baby?":) If we were going to have to be responsible for someone, I would have much rather it been a baby. But, I lost that one. We went and picked out the best-looking chocolate lab you ever did see. He looked precious. He took really cute pictures. But, oh boy, we didn't know what we were in for.
That little pup grew up into a huge 100 pound boy who dug up anything I planted in the backyard, chewed like nobody's business, and was way too adventurous for his own good. Within the first year, he had escaped multiple times. He was in a chain link fence, but he quickly figured out how to jump up and hit the handle with his nose. He waltzed right out. We got a lock on the gate. Not too long after, a knock came at 3 a.m. one morning. I told Jamie not to open it because it might be a robber, to which he replied that robbers don't knock. Ha! Lo and behold, it was a policeman...with Wallace in the back of his police car. He had been in the garage and jumped up and hit the garage door opener button. Yes, really.
We moved when he was two, but the adventures had just begun. If you are my friend on Facebook, you have seen at least one post a year looking for Wallace. They all went something like this:
"Big chocolate lab missing in the Historic District. Again.
Red collar. Keep an eye out and let us know if you see him."
Amazingly, we found him every time. He only came home on his own, once.
We moved again when he was nine. Our backyard goes uphill in the back, so the ground meets the roof line of our carport. When we moved in, we threatened our kids that they better NEVER get on the roof. It never occurred to us to threaten Wallace. I'd be doing dishes at the front sink and see cars slowing down staring at our house. At first, I was kinda worried. I mean, were people casing our house? But then one day, as I was returning home from a walk, I saw him. Wallace was standing on the front of the roof, which is two stories, just chilling and watching cars go by. We soon became known as the people with the dog on the roof. One time a sweet young girl knocked on the door. I opened and she said, "Um...I'm not sure how to tell you this...but there's a dog on your roof..." I told her it was ok, and he'd get down soon. She looked at me like I'd officially lost it. Ha!
He was always right there...up in my business. But he was also right there protecting us. He was fiercely loyal, but probably wouldn't have hurt a fly. I had multiple UPS drivers call me from the driveway to come get my package. His bark was much louder than his bite.
Wallace was one-of-a-kind and will be missed terribly.
I cried my eyes out yesterday. Not just because of my heartbreak over losing our old guy. But because I realized how much the Lord had taught me because of him.
Wallace was our prodigal dog, if you will. Every time he ran away, we searched for him and called him to come back home. We loved on him as he bounded into our arms when he returned. And we took him back time after time. Not because we weren't hurt, angry, disappointed, and frustrated that we'd had to put our lives on hold, once again, to look for him, but because he was ours.
Many times, he was wet, nasty, and covered with who-knows-what. There were times we declared, "We are not looking for him again! If he doesn't come back...it's his fault!" Our pride took over. And our frustrations were on full display. But it didn't last. Our hearts softened, and I have no doubt that the Lord was enjoying a chuckle and shaking his head.
Because the Lord was showing me that we are a lot like Wallace. We take off down our own path, trying to make our own way in the world. We don't listen or even pay attention when the Lord calls us home. In fact, sometimes, we run even harder in the opposite direction. It's not because we don't love the Lord, or want to be close to Him at times. We just want it on our time. We think we are wise enough to handle things ourselves. We want to have an adventure and then come back once we've had some fun.
The only problem is, that most of the time, our adventures don't turn out like we think. We end up lost, dirty, alone, and longing for the comfort of home. But, thankfully, the Lord uses people in our lives to lead us back to Him. They take us in, feed us, warm us up, and hang on to us until we are found again. God is so good.
"The LORD is compassionate and merciful, slow to get angry and filled with unfailing love."
Psalm 103:8
The Lord loves us y'all.
He wants us to come back home to Him.
And He wants us to stay.
Just the way we longed for Wallace to.
Don't walk.
Run.
Run in to His arms,
and plan to stay.
It is the best decision you'll ever make.
If Wallace were here, he would agree.
As much as he loved to roam,
he loved coming home even more.
And he will be missed.
We did have a Golden Retriever named Lucy, who I loved. She smiled...truly smiled...at people. We got her when I was five, and she passed away when I was nineteen. As much as I disliked all of the stuff that went along with her, I loved Lucy. And I cried my eyes out when she was gone.
It's been almost twenty years, and yesterday, I found myself in the same predicament. We had to say good-bye to our Wallace. For those of you who knew him, or searched for him, or saw him on our roof, you had a special privilege. Not many dogs can say they lived as full a life as he did.
Jamie and I were in our first year of marriage, and he came home one day saying he wanted to get a puppy. My response? "Can't we just go ahead and have a baby?":) If we were going to have to be responsible for someone, I would have much rather it been a baby. But, I lost that one. We went and picked out the best-looking chocolate lab you ever did see. He looked precious. He took really cute pictures. But, oh boy, we didn't know what we were in for.
That little pup grew up into a huge 100 pound boy who dug up anything I planted in the backyard, chewed like nobody's business, and was way too adventurous for his own good. Within the first year, he had escaped multiple times. He was in a chain link fence, but he quickly figured out how to jump up and hit the handle with his nose. He waltzed right out. We got a lock on the gate. Not too long after, a knock came at 3 a.m. one morning. I told Jamie not to open it because it might be a robber, to which he replied that robbers don't knock. Ha! Lo and behold, it was a policeman...with Wallace in the back of his police car. He had been in the garage and jumped up and hit the garage door opener button. Yes, really.
We moved when he was two, but the adventures had just begun. If you are my friend on Facebook, you have seen at least one post a year looking for Wallace. They all went something like this:
"Big chocolate lab missing in the Historic District. Again.
Red collar. Keep an eye out and let us know if you see him."
Amazingly, we found him every time. He only came home on his own, once.
We moved again when he was nine. Our backyard goes uphill in the back, so the ground meets the roof line of our carport. When we moved in, we threatened our kids that they better NEVER get on the roof. It never occurred to us to threaten Wallace. I'd be doing dishes at the front sink and see cars slowing down staring at our house. At first, I was kinda worried. I mean, were people casing our house? But then one day, as I was returning home from a walk, I saw him. Wallace was standing on the front of the roof, which is two stories, just chilling and watching cars go by. We soon became known as the people with the dog on the roof. One time a sweet young girl knocked on the door. I opened and she said, "Um...I'm not sure how to tell you this...but there's a dog on your roof..." I told her it was ok, and he'd get down soon. She looked at me like I'd officially lost it. Ha!
He was always right there...up in my business. But he was also right there protecting us. He was fiercely loyal, but probably wouldn't have hurt a fly. I had multiple UPS drivers call me from the driveway to come get my package. His bark was much louder than his bite.
Wallace was one-of-a-kind and will be missed terribly.
I cried my eyes out yesterday. Not just because of my heartbreak over losing our old guy. But because I realized how much the Lord had taught me because of him.
Wallace was our prodigal dog, if you will. Every time he ran away, we searched for him and called him to come back home. We loved on him as he bounded into our arms when he returned. And we took him back time after time. Not because we weren't hurt, angry, disappointed, and frustrated that we'd had to put our lives on hold, once again, to look for him, but because he was ours.
Many times, he was wet, nasty, and covered with who-knows-what. There were times we declared, "We are not looking for him again! If he doesn't come back...it's his fault!" Our pride took over. And our frustrations were on full display. But it didn't last. Our hearts softened, and I have no doubt that the Lord was enjoying a chuckle and shaking his head.
Because the Lord was showing me that we are a lot like Wallace. We take off down our own path, trying to make our own way in the world. We don't listen or even pay attention when the Lord calls us home. In fact, sometimes, we run even harder in the opposite direction. It's not because we don't love the Lord, or want to be close to Him at times. We just want it on our time. We think we are wise enough to handle things ourselves. We want to have an adventure and then come back once we've had some fun.
The only problem is, that most of the time, our adventures don't turn out like we think. We end up lost, dirty, alone, and longing for the comfort of home. But, thankfully, the Lord uses people in our lives to lead us back to Him. They take us in, feed us, warm us up, and hang on to us until we are found again. God is so good.
"The LORD is compassionate and merciful, slow to get angry and filled with unfailing love."
Psalm 103:8
The Lord loves us y'all.
He wants us to come back home to Him.
And He wants us to stay.
Just the way we longed for Wallace to.
Don't walk.
Run.
Run in to His arms,
and plan to stay.
It is the best decision you'll ever make.
If Wallace were here, he would agree.
As much as he loved to roam,
he loved coming home even more.
And he will be missed.
❤ ❤❤
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