I’ve had a lot of formal education, but I have learned the most about life from four-legged friends and those with wings and feathers. Papa has turned the animal kingdom into a seminary for me, and His creatures have become my professors.
My latest class began back before Christmas of 2009. One of our parishioners who rescues dogs called to inform me that someone had brought her a scraggly looking ten pounder they had found wandering around the neighborhood. After a couple of weeks, no one had claimed him even though she had put out flyers and ads in the paper. She just wanted to know if we knew of anyone who might give him a good home.
Wanda and I had been discussing the possibility of getting another dog for Gracie, our 5 year-old Havanese, who has to stay alone all day while we are at work. We thought another dog might enhance her social skills and give her some company during the day, but we never got serious about it... until Linda called.
When it came down to crunch time, Wanda began to get cold feet. It was a big decision. Whoever said two dogs were as easy to keep as one will lie about others things, too. So we prayed about it and waited. In the meantime, Pop came up for a visit, and we swung by Linda’s just to see what the dog looked like. He was a solid black, curly-haired fuzzball with a real zest for life. And yet he would snuggle his head up under your chin and let you stroke his back all day long… if you could catch him.
Linda told us that someone else had called and shown an interest in the dog. I figured that Papa had answered our prayer, and Gracie was going to remain an “only child.” Or so I thought.
The following Sunday at church, Linda told us that the interested party had decided not to take the little guy. So Marley became an Ashley. We named him Marley because his hair curled up in dreadlocks like the Rastafarian, Bob Marley. We are not Bob Marley fans, but we sure do love his namesake.
It wasn’t long until we discovered why Marley was a rescued dog. He was a “bolter.” Open the door and he’s out in a flash. We chased him down the road several times before establishing the habit of picking him up before we answer the door.
Marley had belonged to someone. He was healthy, well-kept and had a small collar with no ID. The vet said he was in great shape. I’m convinced that he snuck out of someone’s house and couldn’t find his way back. His journey led him to the Ashley home where he has become quite a fixture.
He is the antithesis of Gracie. Gracie is a girly girl. She is prim and proper. She goes wild whenever we come home rolling over on her back for her belly rub, but then she finds her spot on the couch and chills out. She doesn’t get in a hurry. She is a picky eater, and her Mom insists on feeding her by hand so she doesn’t starve. Wow, what a diva! She is socially maladjusted around people clinging to her Mama whenever we have company. She is a Mama’s girl.
Marley, on the other hand, is wide opened. The world is his oyster. He loves life. When we take him out to pee, he crouches down, ears perked scoping out the squirrel population. Then he drags me down the steps squealing like a little girl in hot pursuit of the retreating varmints. I don’t know what he would do if he caught one. They are as big as he is.
He may be little, but he has a heart as big as all outdoors. He never meets a stranger. Whenever we walk around the block, he runs up to dogs ten times his size and bites them on the ear. Then he will back off and do the Ali Shuffle. Then he will charge them again. He just wants somebody… anybody to play with him.
He loves to chase the water as Wanda hoses down the flowers. He will run from one end of the yard to the other biting at the spray and getting soaked. He loves to be dried off with a big towel. He will sit still as can be and let you rub him down. He will look up at you with those dark eyes and lick you right in the mouth as if to say, “Boy, that feels good. Please don’t stop!” I think he feels safe and secure wrapped up in the towel and held close.
He is especially fond of stuffed dog toys. He will shake it violently and dare you to take it away from him. When you do grab it and throw it, he will go fetch it until your arm gets tired. He is a trip.
Like all of us, Marley came with baggage. He was so insecure and afraid, he hid behind his playfulness. Whenever anyone would reach down to pet him, he would back off, crouch and lurch forward as if he wanted to play. He was just afraid. He was as jumpy as Don Knotts. The least little sound would cause him to jump up and bark. At some time or another, he must have been really scared. Fear will rob anyone of the joy of being loved.
It has taken a few months, but now you can reach down and stroke his back without him recoiling. He is learning that his family loves him and only wants to make him happy. It’s taken me years to learn that Papa loves me and only wants to make me happy. I, too, used to hide behind coping mechanisms in order to protect myself and avoid the possibility of pain and rejection.
I used to become aggravated if Marley would not come when called or wouldn’t let me pick him up to love on him. Papa gave us Marley to let me know how frustrating it can be when you really love someone, and they won’t allow you love them. Marley just didn’t understand how much we loved him. For years, I didn’t understand how much Papa loved me. Now, Marley and me (sounds like a movie title, doesn’t it?) are learning to trust one another. He’s learning to trust me, and I’m learning to trust Papa. He’s learning to relax in my love, and I’m learning to relax in Papa’s.
Marley is slowly becoming a Daddy’s boy. He follows me everywhere. He is lying on the floor right beside me now as I’m writing this. He just wants to be where I am. He’s learning that my love drives away his fear. Marley is a visual aid from Papa to teach me the same thing. I just want to be where He is. And He just wants to be where I am.
Marley and I are enjoying the journey together. Marley is teaching me that the journey IS the destination. Life is to be enjoyed one squirrel at a time. He is also teaching me that it’s far better to learn to dance in the rain than complain about the storm. Besides, getting dried off by your Master after the shower is the best part of all.
