I wanted to share this photo which I took the other day right after Kathy and I picked up Bobbi and Ellie from the groomer. (It takes two of us to do the pickup- one of us with both dogs is just a little too scary when we’re in an unfamiliar neighborhood and no Invisible Fence. If one or both of them slipped off the leash or pulled away, there’s no saying what might happen.) We both walk in and we each come out with one dog a piece, but they both go into Kathy’s car for reasons that most of you understand, I’m sure. Riding behind is always a treat because most of the time Kathy rolls down one or more of the car windows and before you know it, one or both of the dogs are in Canine Heaven.
One of the things I love about Golden Retrievers is that they have this ability to show you how happy they are – and when they’re especially happy, they SMILE! No question about it. Lots of other breeds really don’t do that – either their expression seems dour – or blank. But Goldens let you know when they are happy, or sad, or whatever. I also like how you can look at a Golden and you feel like they are really looking back at you, whereas some dogs you can look into their eyes but you feel like you’re really looking into two little spheres of plastic – nothing is really looking back at you with any intelligence or affection.
Of course, dog owners/ lovers are perpetually guilty of giving their dogs a little too much credit – bestowing on them complex emotions and thought processes that belong only to human beings. But having lived with a dog or dogs without pause for most of my childhood as well as for the last 16 years, I’m here to tell you that they can be happy – they can be sad – – – and they also have an amazing capacity to respond to our emotions and moods. I remember so vividly one day very early in our marriage (we were living out in the country in the house we rented from Dr. Nimmer, which would mean ‘92-’93) when I came home from school to find Kathy sitting at our kitchen table with this look of grief on her face. It turns out that she had just heard that dear friends of ours had quite unexpectedly suffered the tragedy of miscarriage. . . Kathy was sitting there still trying to process the news and feeling so terribly sad . . . and at her feet our cocker spaniel Luther was lying there, so still – and no one will ever convince me that Luther wasn’t somehow sensing Kathy’s grief and wanting to be close to her. And on a day like today when Kathy and I are running around with suitcases and bags, it can’t be a coincidence that both of our goldens will spend most of the day lying on the family room floor, trying to look as adorable and quiet as possible – as though to convince us that we couldn’t possibly choose to leave such adorable animals behind.
And yet, that’s exactly what we had to do today – as we headed off to Dubuque for my bi-annual stint as worship leader for the Grace Institute.
Can you tell that we miss them?