Saturday Confession: I’m in Love, I’m in Love and I Don’t Care Who Knows It!

 

Sorry to steal your line, Buddy the Elf, but it fits here.

I’m in love.

But not the kind to get me in trouble with my marriage.

Even though it’s not my husband.

It’s this guy.

No one is more shocked than me.

I’m not a big dog person.

My sister would even say I’m not a pet person.

Compared to her, I’m not. She has such compassion for animals, and I’m average. At best.

I’m not a puppy person.

It wasn’t that long ago I was telling someone that the way to become a pet owner is to adopt an older dog. They are house trained, they just want love.

Puppies are so much work.

Imagine my surprise when I realized it’s been three weeks and I haven’t cried once over this new addition.

I didn’t call the doctor to increase medication.

There hasn’t been one conflict in the home over this dog.

In fact, this pup has actually eliminated a conflict that was accelerating with another dog.

Although he requires constant monitoring, in a lot of ways, he’s made my life easier.

He’s full of snuggles. Years ago the Holy Spirit whispered into my needy heart that although I seem repulsed by it, touch is one of my love languages. The difference, He explained, was that I never received it. I had no idea it was a need. Now I get it, even a dog hand shake or a little puppy hug fills my tank. It’s crazy.

When he chooses to nap at my feet, I love it. He’s secure with me? I’m hardly secure with me!

The other pets aren’t thrilled, but when they think I’m not looking, they initiate play.

In a year where “chosen” and “preposterous” have been the themes, this is another example.

He was chosen for us. And loving him is preposterous, but doggone it, I do.