Vanity, Duct Tape and Default Positions

5 out of 6 family members really wanted a dog. I was the 6^th. Don’t get me wrong – I love dogs! When I nagged my parents to get a baby brother or a sister, they got a dog. I treated her as a younger sibling for the 16 years I had her.

Because I knew how much work having a dog would entail (Ha! No pun intended! Or maybe some), I was reluctant when my family ganged up on me and insisted on getting a dog. “Who’s going to walk the dog?” I demanded to know. All of them would walk the dog. As it turns out, it’s really easy to commit to a hypothetical question. “Who will feed the dog, wash and brush it, and clean up after it?” All of them would. I should have known. I was defeated.

Four-legged charm

Trixie was the sweetest little puppy you could ever imagine. She was a Schapendoes, a medium sized Dutch shepherd dog, very intelligent and with a lot of initiative. I know, all you dog owners out there immediately cringed when you read that last part. I soon figured out, though, that if I just kept her mind occupied she wasn’t as destructive. 2×10 minutes a day of mental exercise kept my slippers safe and the walls intact. You appreciate such details after repeated painting, wallpapering and shoe shopping.

So Trixie would play hide and seek. She would locate me immediately. I was really slow when it came to finding her. I would send her to find my kids. Very helpful, especially when they didn’t want to be found. She would find things that we had misplaced. Very nice indeed, except when she chewed on them before returning them to us. She loved doing tricks for treats. She would roll over, do a high five, dance on her hind legs, and wave goodbye. Her favorite trick was carefully unwrapping gifts, regardless of whom they belonged to, and then carefully picking up the torn pieces of paper and putting them in the trash as if nothing had happened. She was terribly smart.

Trixie would shepherd our kids, especially during winter when they were sliding downhill. If anyone tried to go off-piste, she would quickly bark and drag him back into the fold where he belonged. Again, very helpful. She came to see herself as a third parent in our family. We didn’t object.

Vanity with fur

She had a few flaws, though. She hated being brushed, but she loved being in pictures. Whenever she saw a camera she would frown before picking up her brush, demanding that we combed her to make sure she looked good. Trixie would go from one person to another, waiting patiently until they had said the magic words – Yeah, you look great! – and she was not happy before she had heard her praises sung by the entire family. She wanted a bow in her hair for the photos, but she would undo the bow immediately after the pictures where done. No, I’m not kidding. She must have been the vainest dog ever!

When Trixie passed away, we all missed her dearly and it didn’t take long before we decided to get a new dog. We had another Schapendoes, a boy this time. His name was Frodo, and, as it turned out, he was on a quest. We should have known.

Reality check

We were quite confident, believing we actually knew how to do this. After all, Trixie had turned out so well, and we mistakenly believed that her good behavior was due to our efforts. If we brought him up the same way, he should turn out more or less the same, shouldn’t he? Maybe except the vanity and the unwrapping of gifts?

He wasn’t vain, that’s for sure. He didn’t mind being covered in paint and plaster after having chewed his way straight through the wall. He nodded happily as we picked out car seat pieces from the long fur and watched interestedly as we arranged to have the car refurnished. He wasn’t bothered by the tape covering his entire furry body after discovering a roll of duct tape in the basement. I heard the strange plastic sound of his moving tail before I saw the duct taped misery laying next my husband’s armchair. My better half didn’t even look up from his newspaper as he commented: “Yes, I will remove the tape. I just have to wait for a few minutes until I can do it calmly.” Frodo seemed to enjoy the peace and quiet as he waited.

He was always up to something and it was our job to keep him occupied. If not, he was all over the place, sniffing out whatever we had hidden to keep safe, chewing up walls and furniture, finding new uses for tools and materials, running like crazy all over the house, or just barking insanely at visitors. He got better, though. Or maybe we just got used to him. Either way, we got along.

Default mode

It’s funny how you can do the same thing twice with completely different results. We look for patterns and similarities, trying to create one solution that will fit all needs, no matter the individuals or the stories that come with them. Our two furry family members had something in common, though. If their minds weren’t occupied with playful creativity, they were up to destructive mischief. Maybe that’s why they fit so well in our family. We could all relate.

I still do. I daily have to choose what I fill my mind with. My default mode is to look for whatever I can do better, sometimes causing me to question my abilities or even my motivation. I constantly have to choose to rest in the presence of the Lord. I claim my God-given identity as I consciously search for his purpose for my life. I choose to present my life and ideas as gifts to the Father, only to find him cheering and blowing kisses in my direction. Are all my ideas good? Of course not. That’s why I need the kisses. But he still encourages me to share them. He even rejoices over me with singing!

I prefer that to chewing my way through the wall.