Part 4 For The Love of a Dog
As time went on
Max learned that he could always find the reassurance he needed with me. No matter who or what scared him, he would
run to me, knowing that I would hold him and love him. In return, I was experiencing joy in giving him
the support he needed to cope with daily life.
This was encouraging to me because it had been a long time since I had
felt any real joy or amusement.
Somehow I had forgotten how to have fun, but it was so
much more than that, I could no longer grasp the concept or the meaning of the
word. I didn't realize that this was how
far-removed I was (before Maxwell came into my life), until one afternoon my
husband and I went out for a drive in the country and had lunch at a little out
of the way diner. On the way home he asked me if I had fun. This may sound strange to you, but I did not
understand the question. I could not
grasp the meaning of the word "fun".
I just sat there trying to figure out what he was asking me. I repeated the word "Fun" over and
over in my mind, but could not perceive what he was asking me let alone give
him an answer.
Now, since Max came into my life, I was
beginning to anticipate that there was hope for me after all, that the numbness
within me wasn't because I was dead inside, but just numb from the sting of
hurt. After all, this little dog could
make me smile, and laugh, and have fun! Just
watching him play and romp in the grass or in the snow tickled my heart.
There is such
beauty in watching one of God's creatures discover the wonders of this world
for the first time!
Max was sitting on
the back porch as the first snowflakes started to float down. He was gazing up,
is if trying to focus on one individual flake, then he opened his mouth to grab
one. There he sat, continuing to grab at
the snowflakes. He didn't appear to want to eat them, more like he didn't think
they should be there. After a minute or
two he jumped up and started to run around the back yard, jumping up and snatching
as many snowflakes he could. Up he'd
jump, with his snout open ready to destroy another flake. I don't know what he was thinking but it
looked to me like he didn't think these flakes were supposed to be in his
backyard, and he was trying to stop them from invading his space.
The next morning
we woke up to a beautiful snow covered world. Maxwell ran to the back door (it was a sliding
glass door), to be let out but stopped and was observing the snow. Tela came
down from upstairs to be let out also. When I opened the door Tela went barreling
out. Not Max, he stood about a foot from
the edge of the threshold, his little nose stretched out, trying to smell
it. He did not want out and refused to
move. When I tried coxing him he planted his four paws firmly on the floor, crouched
down, and refused to walk. After trying,
yet failing to get him to go out, I let Tela back in and started to made some
coffee. Tela did what she always did
when it wasn't a school day, she ran back up the stairs to go back to bed with
Jonathan.
What I hadn't
noticed right away was that Maxwell was sniffing at the snow Tela had tracked
in. Carefully lifting his paws trying not to step on any of the the snow. As I said before, he was a curious dog; so
far this had been a benefit to him. I
sat at the kitchen table sipping my coffee watching him lick up the tiny
puddles of melting snow. Knowing he
needed to go out to do his "business" I kept a watchful eye on him
fearing that he may try to go inside.
But after all the melted snow was cleaned up (thanks to Max) he went and
sat down by the door, which meant he wanted out. So I got up and opened the door for him. This time he stood there looking out the door
at the snow, then up at me, and then out again, like he needed reassurance
that it was safe. He was even willing to
stick his head out.
"Tela,"
I called. She had been a help in the
past in aiding Max overcome a fear of something.
I stood watching
him follow Tela through the yard. It was a good thing too. Because the snow was
deep for a short dog. He was using the
trail she made to make it easier on himself to navigate through.
Something must have registered in his brain
because after a few minutes he started running through the snow. His fears were abated; he was playing and
trying to chase Tela. He would bury his
head in the snow, and then up his head would come with him snorting and
sneezing. He did this over and over. I was laughing while I watched
my little dog enjoying this new adventure.
Before long Bruce was standing at the door next to me, a cup of coffee
in hand, also amused at the sight of Maxwell's joy.
The first year with
Maxwell gives me pause. His first
Halloween, with the door bell ringing every two minutes, and the kids yelling
"Trick-or-treat" was a disaster.
The only thing that we could do was to put him in his crate, turn on the
radio (loud) and shut the bedroom door.
His first Thanksgiving, when sixteen people
came for dinner! Yeah, another time he went in his crate. Except he did
manage to venture out after everyone sat down.
Most likely the Thanksgiving smells overrode his fear because under the
table he went and begun to nudge everyone's leg in hope of a morsel of turkey!
His first
Christmas morning, he was so excited; I'd swear he understood it was a very
special day. He sat next to Tela where their stockings hung; waiting for us to
give him and Tela the treats and the toys that Santa had left in their
stockings (Santa never did leave him a squeak toy!). When everyone came for
Christmas dinner Max barked as each person came through the door. Although this
time he wasn't anxious, he wasn't fearful, it was more like an announcement. As we all busied ourselves with the appropriate
tasks, I failed to notice that someone had moved the candy dish! So as our
guests went into the living room, there were empty foil wrappers everywhere,
with both dogs eating the last of the remaining Hershey Kisses! Oh wonderful day! Tela had taught Max how to steal
the Hershey Kisses and even to take off the foil wrappers; too bad neither of
them learned how to get rid of the evidence.
Maxwell had become
one of the best gifts God would ever give to me after the death of my son. God had used this little dog to open my heart
and feel again. Oh I still had much more to
learn and there was a lot more that God would teach me via Maxwell.
The best from God was yet to come…
No comments:
Post a Comment