My Dog

Today I had to catch my dog when she almost tumbled down the stairs. She's 14, in regular years. A shepherd mutt.

We got her at Christmas 2000; she was two years old and her owner was getting remarried and his new wife had a cat and didn't want the dog.

That coming February my mom died unexpectedly, throwing me deep into a paroxysm of grief. Sunny sensed my pitiful state and brought me great comfort. She's been "my" dog ever since.

I'm glad I could catch her today. I'm not sure where this is going, sadly. But I am grateful for the comfort this furry creation of God has been to me over the years, my constant companion, the Holy Spirit with fur, not that the Holy Spirit inhabits my dog, but she has been a concrete expression of unconditional love and regard that I appreciate.

We humans are created uniquely in the image of God. But certainly all of creation reflects and "images" God in some fashion.

I've been carrying her up and down the stairs ever since. She took a turn carrying me, it's the least I can do.