Our Gift

"I just don't think I'm ready to take on another dog," I said. "I mean it hasn't been a full 2 months since we lost our Molly. I need more time."
Chuck gave me a squeeze. "Okay, no pressure, let's just go look at the puppies," Chuck said with pleading eyes.
This is a paraphrased version of the conversation I had with my husband one chilly, November evening. I'm sure you can complete this one on your own. Yes, we brought the dog home and I can't imagine life without her. With our girls growing up and becoming more independent, we fill that void by showering attention on this beautiful, brown, wrinkled dog. She was only 6 weeks old when we she became a member of our family. Just like caring for a baby, she was awake at night and fussed to have her needs met. She chewed nearly every piece of furniture we have, making me glad that most of the furnishings came from second hand stores. Not long after her arrival, she fell asleep on our bed while Chuck and I enjoyed a movie. Yep, you guessed it, it's now her bed too. At times, it does get a wee bit crowded, now that she has grown. Her presence fills an emptiness I didn't know I had. She rises early with Chuck and keeps him company while he sips coffee in the family room and checks his email. She trots outside with him when he waters his garden in the evenings. Marley doesn't mind if his hand tremors or his legs cramp. In fact, she often moves closer to him as if to show him she's available if needed.
When the snows of winter blew about the yard, she slept by the fire as I wrote, and raised her head when I read my manuscripts aloud. Her head would turn just slightly from side to side as I read my latest story. Marley listened intently to the stories rejected by magazines and contests. Her eyes fixed on my performance, regardless of my lack of publication. When I began to work on my website, her warm, snoring body kept me company stretched out on the bed we share.
Friends are blessings from God, I have no doubt. However, even in the best of friendships, we may feel a need to hide our imperfections, embarrassments, or physical limitations. Dogs are friends who don't need a master with a steady hand, an even gait or a published story. All a dog needs is a family who is willing to be loved. In return, Marley is indeed a gift to this family. JKH