There is no doubt in my mind that I would be regarded as ‘a dog person’. Over the years, Irish and I have had an assortment of strays from the dog pound, and loved them all. Their characters have been as wide ranging as their appearances and the individual traits of each dog have provided us with a continual source of entertainment. In 2008 we were down to one dog - Lucy – who started life looking like a German Shepherd and today bears a strong resemblance to a Yeti! It may very well have been that I made my decision ‘while the balance of my mind was disturbed’ having recently had surgery for the removal of a brain tumour but, nevertheless, I wanted another dog. Don’t get me wrong, I wouldn’t have tried to force Irish’s hand on the matter but the idea of a small dog really appealed to me, and soon he was open to the idea. The difficulty, of course, was the virtual impossibility of getting a ‘small’ dog from the pound. It was at that point that my thoughts wandered (via library books) around the ‘cute and fluffy’ models and, via the captivating pictures, I finally settled on a Bichon Frise. On reflection, I probably talked myself into the whole idea by use of boringly repetitious comments like “I want one of those”. The idea stuck, however, and as ‘luck’ would have it, a local farmer and his wife had a sideline of breeding Bichon Frise. Upon contacting them we discovered that their girl had given birth to one pup three weeks previous. How convenient! ;) Words like “the rest is history’ spring to mind at this point. Suffice it to say that one very tiny dog was soon living in a new home. Upon moving to the Far North we soon found a good walking route but it wasn’t until my recent decision to do something about my health that walks with my white fluff ball became regular. With the size of the legs he has walks aren’t a priority – particularly as he loves chasing after our other dog. It occurred to me when I was walking Awhi (think Uffy) this morning that apart from the very obvious differences between us (he has four legs and is cute), there is one particularly significant way in which we differ. It is in attitude of mind. You see, Awhi KNOWS he is royalty. He knows of his connection with French aristocracy. He knows his true position in life. He knows who he is. I wonder why it is so difficult for me to get that same mindset about myself. I get blown every which way according to the surroundings in which I find myself – the people with whom I associate. Why do I flit from one theory to another when the truth itself is so clear. I am a direct descendant of the King of Kings and Lord of Lords. Hallelujah!
Tell me about it! I feel like such a "lump"... now I am reminded I am a royal lump! hahaha... No... thanks for the reminder that no matter what our twisted self perceptions are... it doesn't change the FACT that we ARE children of the most High... loved, accepted, and adored JUST AS WE ARE... Thanks again for a great blog and message. You are a beautiful blessing! I LOVE this song...
Sigh... I haven't had a dog since 1995. It's not that I don't like dogs. It's the fact that there was rarely anyone at home and that would not be a good thing. Now that I am home, I have thought about getting a dog once again but I don't think Nix would be in favor of it and since he is now 10 years old I suppose he is entitled to live out his remaining years in peace but still... sigh... I must content myself with the dogs of my friends.
I remember when you sent me that picture of Awhi. He is such a cutie and he also has a lovely voice!
It is very important to remember who we are in Christ.
As long as his 'royalty" didn't let him think my reading chair was his personal throne, I'd be good with it.
We had a Shetland Sheepdog that simply would NOT let us leave my parent's house. He's run right in front of our vehicle and herd us back.
It was an obsession with the dog. Apparently, hard wired for it.
It made us feel wanted - until I flattened the mutt. (JUST KIDDING!)