Dog - Man’s Best Friend? Or A Link To …?

<<<I use the masculine pronouns “man” and “he” just to make it easier to write>>>

Why is it that most dogs are better people than most people?  It can’t just be loyalty, unconditional love, craving our company, or a willingness to forgive the stupid, unthinking way we treat them sometimes.

There has to be something more.  Some spark of devine guidance only the canine species is endowed with.

Could it just be coincidence that the names dog and God are so similar?  Maybe the original biblical translation was wrong and dog, not man, was the one made in God’s Image?  I’ve asked God about this and He just seems to give me a wink and a little smile.  He doesn’t seem to be offended by the comparison, either.

Dogs are messengers of God.  God's word is not accidental or happenstance.  The writers God chose to communicate His message were inspired divinely to write what they wrote, as they wrote it.  It is no accident there are 40 references in The Bible to dogs.

Dogs are messengers of God in that "dog" specifically and purposefully was selected through divine inspiration to communicate the full measure of God through the context of the 40 Scriptural references or citations in The Bible. Whether Hebrew (kelev), Greek (kuōn), or Aramaic (kalbā), whether literal, metaphorical, or allegorical in syntax, in the context of communicating God's word, dogs are messengers of God.*

W. C. Fields said:  “I never met a man I didn’t like.”

I say:  “I never met a dog I didn’t like.”  “The more dogs I meet, the less I like people. ”

Occasionally, I’ve met a dog who didn’t like me.

Maybe I smelled wrong or looked wrong or sounded wrong.

Maybe I violated his space, uninvited.

Maybe I reminded him of someone who abused him or someone he … just … didn’t … like.

In any case, we just agreed to take diverging paths.

Don’t get me wrong.  Other pets are OK.

Cats come in, eat, and want to go right back out.  Sometimes they will tolerate attention, but, not for long.  They do know how to say goodby:  Tail up and back turned.

Birds sit in a cage, squawk, eat, make a mess all over the floor, and stare at you with one eye.

Rodents can be trained to eat on cue … ?

Fish are …………….. well ……………. fish.

Reptiles are ………… we won’t even go there.

A dog, on the other hand, loves to play with you.  Mountain or beach, backyard or park, with or without toys (toys do make it more fun).

Dogs like to hunt.  Some even like to fish. Although, at times, their patience can be a little scarce.

A dog will, sometimes, be content just to lay his head, or maybe his whole body, on your lap.

The later you get home, the happier he is to see you.

He thinks the best bed for him is that pile of your dirty clothes at the foot of your bed.

When you are ill or recuperating, he will steadfastly stay by your side until you recover.

Dogs have been known to accompany their master’s casket until it’s put in the grave.

A dog doesn’t ask for much.  Food and water, a bath now and then, scritchies behind the ears or down the nose, a loving word, or sometimes just the simple touch of your hand.  Warning:  some dogs resist the bath part.

According to the Bible**, a man is given seventy to eighty years.

A dog is given considerably less.  I think that is so a man can experience the thrill of companionship from more than one dog in his lifetime.

Mark Twain said:  “If dogs don’t go to heaven, I want to go where they go.”

I’m with you there Mr Clemens.

*    http://www.associatedcontent.com/

**  Psalm 90:10   The days of our lives are threescore years and ten; and if by reason of strength they be fourscore years, yet is their strength labour and sorrow; for it is soon cut off, and we fly away.

Twinkies, Root Beer, and God

A little boy wanted to meet God. He knew it was a long trip to where God lived, so he packed his suitcase with Twinkies and a six-pack of Root Beer and he started his journey.

When he had gone about three blocks, he met an elderly man. The man was sitting in the park just feeding some pigeons. 

The boy sat down next to him and opened his suitcase. He was about to take a drink from his root beer when he noticed that the man looked hungry, so he offered him a Twinkie.

The man gratefully accepted it and smiled at boy. His smile was so pleasant that the boy wanted to see it again, so he offered him a root beer.Again, the man smiled at him. The boy was delighted.

They sat there all afternoon eating and smiling, but they never said a word.

As it grew dark, the boy realized how tired he was and he got up to leave, but before he had gone more than a few steps, he turned around, ran back to the man, and gave him a hug. The man gave him his biggest smile ever.

When the boy opened the door to his own house a short time later, his mother was surprised by the look of joy on his face. She asked him, "What did you do today that made you so happy?

He replied, "I had lunch with God." But before his mother could respond, he added, "You know what? God's got the most beautiful smile I've ever seen!"

Meanwhile, the elderly man, also radiant with joy, returned to his home. His son was stunned by the look of peace on his face and he asked," Dad, what did you do today that made you so happy?"

He replied, "I ate Twinkies in the park with God." However, before his son responded, he added," You know, he's much younger than I expected."

Too often we underestimate the power of a touch, a smile, a kind word, a listening ear, an honest compliment, or the smallest act of caring, all of which have the potential to turn a life around. People come into our lives for a reason, a season, or a lifetime. Embrace all equally!

Phone On The Wall. Hello.

I loved this story and just had to pass it on.  I hope you enjoy it too.

When I was a young boy, my father had one of the first telephones in our neighborhood.. I remember the polished, old case fastened to the wall. The shiny receiver hung on the side of the box. I was too little to reach the telephone, but used to listen with fascination when my mother talked to it.

Then I discovered that somewhere inside the wonderful device lived an amazing person. Her name was "Information Please" and there was nothing she did not know. Information Please could supply anyone's number and the correct time.

My personal experience with the genie-in-a-bottle came one day while my mother was visiting a neighbor. Amusing myself at the tool bench in the basement, I whacked my finger with a hammer, the pain was terrible, but there seemed no point in crying because there was no one home to give sympathy.

I walked around the house sucking my throbbing finger, finally arriving at the stairway. The telephone! Quickly, I ran for the footstool in the parlor and dragged it to the landing. Climbing up, I unhooked the receiver held it to my ear.

"Information, please" I said into the mouthpiece just above my head.

A click or two and a small clear voice spoke into my ear. 

"Information."

"I hurt my finger..." I wailed into the phone, the tears came readily enough
now that I had an audience.

"Isn't your mother home?" came the question.

"Nobody's home but me," I blubbered.

"Are you bleeding?" the voice asked.

"No," I replied. "I hit my finger with the hammer and it hurts."

"Can you open the icebox?" she asked.

 I said I could.

"Then chip off a little bit of ice and hold it to your finger," said the voice..

After that, I called "Information Please" for everything.. I asked her for
help with my geography, and she told me wherePhiladelphia was.

She helped me with my math.

She told me my pet chipmunk that I had caught in the park just the day before, would eat fruit and nuts.

 
Then, there was the time Petey, our pet canary, died. I called,

Information Please," and told her the sad story.. She listened, and then said things grown-ups say to soothe a child. But I was not consoled. I asked her, "Why is it that birds should sing so beautifully and bring joy to all families, only to end up as a heap of feathers on the bottom of a cage?"

 She must have sensed my deep concern, for she said quietly, " Wayne , always remember that there are other worlds to sing in."

Somehow I felt better.

Another day I was on the telephone, "Information Please."

 "Information," said in the now familiar voice. "How do I spell fix?"

I asked.

All this took place in a small town in the Pacific Northwest . When I was nine years old, we moved across the country to Boston . I missed my friend very much.
"Information Please" belonged in that old wooden box back home and I
somehow never thought of trying the shiny new phone that sat on the table in the hall. As I grew into my teens, the memories of those childhood conversations never really left me..

Often, in moments of doubt and perplexity I would recall the serene sense of security I had then. I appreciated now how patient, understanding, and kind she was to have spent her time on a little boy.

A few years later, on my way west to college, my plane put down in Seattle . I had about a half-hour or so between planes. I spent 15 minutes or so on the phone with my sister, who lived there now. Then without thinking what I was doing, I dialed my hometown operator and said, "Information Please."

Miraculously, I heard the small, clear voice I knew so well.

 "Information."

I hadn't planned this, but I heard myself saying,

"Could you please tell me how to spell fix?"

There was a long pause. Then came the soft spoken answer, "I guess your finger must have healed by now."

I laughed, "So it's really you," I said. "I wonder if you have any
idea how much you meant to me during that time?"

I wonder," she said, "if you know how much your calls meant to me.

 I never had any children and I used to look forward to your calls."

I told her how often I had thought of her over the years and I asked if I could call her again when I came back to visit my sister.

"Please do", she said. "Just ask for Sally."

 
Three months later I was back in Seattle .  A different voice answered,

 "Information."
I asked for Sally.

 "Are you a friend?" she said.

"Yes, a very old friend," I answered.

"I'm sorry to have to tell you this,"She said. "Sally had been working part time the last few years because she was sick. She died five weeks ago."

Before I could hang up, she said, "

Wait a minute, did you say your name was Wayne ?" "

 Yes." I answered.

 "Well, Sally left a message for you.

She wrote it down in case you called. 

Let me read it to you."

The note said,

"Tell him there are other worlds to sing in.

He'll know what I mean."

 I thanked her and hung up. I knew what Sally meant.
 

Never underestimate the impression you may make on others..

 Whose life have you touched today?

 Why not pass this on? I just did....

 Lifting you on eagle's wings.

May you find the joy and peace you long for.

 Life is a journey... NOT a guided tour.