Dog Explanations

Every so often, I have to explain some­thing to my dog. I usu­ally have to explain it again each time the sit­u­a­tion arises. For exam­ple, I have to open the front door and then the back door for him to see that if it is rain­ing in the front yard it is also rain­ing in the back yard. He likes work­ing all of his options. He just has not fig­ured out yet that clouds are big­ger than the house.

Some­times I have to explain to him that cheese makes him fat. He still thinks that if the refrig­er­a­tor door opens a piece of cheese is part of the deal. Sev­eral times he has told me that he does not worry about his weight. He reminds me that I am the one that had the heart surgery — not him.

Some­times I won­der how the dis­tance between dogs and humans is like that between humans and God. I won­der how many times I have to have the same proofs — over and over again — about grav­ity, time, the needs of the soul, and a thou­sand other things. In my mind I see God open­ing the front door and then the back to let me see that my expec­ta­tions are limited.

The­ol­ogy: greatly sim­pli­fied lan­guage to bridge the gap between beings that are not equal. My “dog house” of a mind has its lim­i­ta­tions. I look at God with all the puz­zle­ment that my dog looks at me when he just does not under­stand. My response parallel’s God’s. I rec­og­nize the lim­i­ta­tions and make all sorts of allowances for it. After all, your dog is being all he or she can be — and you are too.

You are still loved by the Greater Being — lim­i­ta­tions and all.