Our excellent watch dog

The day before Halloween, some friends of ours gave us their dog because they were moving and could not take him with them. We had debated long and hard about whether to accept this dog, which had been bleeding from a foot injury for almost all of his two years. Still, he was a friendly outdoor dog, and we wanted an outdoor dog.

We took the dog to the vet as soon as we could get an appointment, and the vet looked in amazement at his crushed, bleeding foot, which was still open to the bone two years after it had been crushed by a car. She recommended amputating two toes and said we'd need to keep the foot dry for a couple of weeks while it healed. We rigged up a small area in our front porch for his recovery area because he was, after all, an outside dog that had not been potty trained.

It is now April, and the dog's paw has finally healed. For more than five months, I changed bandages on that dog's foot, and he gradually made himself an indoor dog, barging through the barriers we had erected and making it clear that his main goal was in life to hang out within 3 feet of me. On many occasions, I have shreaked and cried as he stood with dogly dignity, peeing a couple quarts onto my floor. At one point, in a frenzy of panic and bad judgement, I tried to stop the pee up at the source while dragging the 75 pound dog outside. I will not do that again.

Ian took on more extra work after school, inspired in large part by the vet bills. This is a heavy weight for him to bear. And I'm still fiddling around with the dog's foot. I have to slip a heavy fabric bag onto it when he goes outside so he doesn't tear up the scar tissue.

We hoped for a good outside dog to help us. On some farms we've visited, dogs are great helpers, keeping the place safer from unwanted guests of all kinds. We really want that kind of help, especially because last year a possum bit me, a skunk ate several ducklings, and a coyote took my favorite cat. I also wanted to know if anyone unexpected came poking around the house, which is located smack dab in the middle of nowhere.

This dog can not help us in these ways. He flees from our cat Myrna, who hisses at him because he offends her principles. Once he silently tried to hide from the cat, wedging himself between the wall and the buffet. It took me a few moments to understand what he was doing. He is also a terrible watch dog. One evening when I was home alone, a friend who doesn't visit often came by to drop off eggs. He slipped through the back door into the dark family room, which I couldn't hear because I was washing dishes. As our friend fumbled for the light, he heard something approaching quietly. When he finally found the light, he saw the dog sitting nearby, wagging its tail and gazing up with gentle brown eyes. I finally learned that our friend was in the house because he shouted out a greeting.

So my big heart really got my family into a mess here.

Except the dog is marvelous. He's sitting beside me right now to keep me company, and I think he is probably the one of the most gentle, cheerful and patient creatures I've ever met. He could be an inspiration for saints. Besides, I like to pet his ears. The ears are satiny and a little darker than his other yellow fur, so it looks like I'm smoothing carmel over butter.

I can't decide if what I've done is ministry or foolishness. I'll probably never know.