An Univited Guest
This question pops into my head daily. Well, daily since the arrival of Tessie.
Tessie is a eight month old Shitz Su. Acutally, I’m not sure she wasn’t bred with a kangaroo. She jumps over every barrier I place in her way to confine her. She hurls over gates like an olympic athlete leaving my two older male shitz sus behind. I wonder if there is an event for the Doggie Gold. I might have a mint on my hands! My oldest know their boundaries, she is always testing her’s. “No, Tessie”. Swat.
Tessie is full of energy. I went to get a blood transfusion for her with reduced red blood cells. Not possible says the vet. I definitely don’t offer her vitamins. She’d be the first dog on the moon. She runs after, jumps on and attacks the older dogs. That’s fine for Leftie, the youngest one,he needs some exercise. Even if it is used for self defense. Serves him right anyway since he is constantly attacking the back yard german shepherd,Shep. Leftie has the little dog syndrome. I keep pointing out to him the size difference between him and Shep, but he chooses to ignore me. Since Tessie has come into the house I believe Leftie has lost some weight. The role reversal agitates him. He used to be the house hold terror.
Tessie is continuously reminding me of things to hide. She gets into the wastebasket in the bathroom. “No, Tessie.” Swat. She gets into the waste basket in my bedroom. “No, Tessie,” Swat. Waste baskets now sit on counters and dressers, she has us trained. We couldn’t locate her one morning till we noticed the clothes hamper swaying. There was Tessie, buried in the laundry chewing on our undies.
She has transformed my good SAS sandals into chew toys, and my closed toed SAS shoes into sandals. “No, Tessie!” Swat. Shoes sit on counter tops next to the wastebaskets. As I climb over the kitchen gate she clamps onto the seat of my pants (or body parts not mentionable) and holds on. “No, Tessie!” Swat.
I’m on my tread mill and she snaps at my feet. “No, Tessie!” Swat. While I’m doing sit ups she sits on my face. “Double No, Tessie!” Swat. When I open the front door to go to work, she squeezes by. “No, Tessie!” Swat. I’m sitting on the couch watching T.V. she jumps up and nibbles on my hands. “NO, Tessie!” Swat.(This time I splash blood around,MINE!.)
Instead of eating from her doggie dish, she eats her doggie dish! Little pieces of plastic scrapes are all around the kitchen. “No,Tessie!” Swat.
I try to brush her hair, she attacks the brush and the extremity holding it. “No, Tessie!” Swat, slinging more of my red corpuscles. I’m getting anemia from this darling. Walking through the house my heels get snipped. “No, Tessie!” Swat. Follow the trail of blood to the first aide kit, and you’ll find me.
My oldest Shitz Su, Cuz’n Buzz, had 1800 dollars worth of knee surgery. She body slams him, and I yell, “No, Tessie!” Swat.
Cuz’n Buzz is deaf, thank heavens for him, he can’t hear Tessie’s yapping so he can ignore her simply by turning his back to her. She’ll sneak up behind him and slap his back with her paws to get him riled. “No, Tessie!” Swat. Now there are wastebaskets, shoes and a old dog on the counter tops!
She empties her water bowl on the floor, causing me to slip and land on my….fanny,(what did you think I would say?) “No, Tessie!” Swat. Now guess what’s on the kitchen counter.
Something on the kitchen table or counter attracts her superior sniffer and she leaps up, occassionally getting hold of something to pull to the floor. “No,Tessie!” Swat.
When I mop or sweep, her little spiked dental tools attach themselves to the end of the poles and hinder my house cleaning. You guessed it, “No, Tessie!” Swat.
I laid my glasses on the end table. They had to be replaced at fifty dollars. Something to do with teeth marks. “No, Tessie!” Swat.
I found my cell phone on the floor in pieces. Fifty dollars to replace that.”No, Tessie!” Swat.
I find Tessie lying peacefully under the kitchen table. I poke her to see if she’s okay. Zoom, I hit the “on” botton and she’s off in search of more adventure. “No!” I swat myself this time.
Why did I do this? I’m too old for makeshift toys all over the floor. For doggy safe teething devices I use the lids off of detergent jugs and she just loves my empty water bottles, so my floors are littered with what others would consider trash. She is amazed when I actually offer her something to masticate on. She’ll take whatever I present to her and run, afraid I’ll rescind my offer. The cardboard toilet paper holder is treasured by her for all of five minutes till it implodes all over the carpet. I’m constantly monitoring a toddler that’s as inquistive about her surroundings as an explorer in the field discovering unknown territories. Each day brings new discoveries, for her and me.
At day’s end, exhausted I finally recline on the couch. Tessie jumps up beside me, encroaching on my space. She approaches me fearlessly. Kissing my cheek she gently lays her head on my leg. Meeting my eyes with her’s, she yawns and closes her’s. In minutes she’s snoring, safe and content. I run my hand over her lightly expanding chest and back, feeling the warmth, the love, the trust. This is why I did it. Puppies and humans are very similiar in God’s eyes. We both test limits, we both need boundaries, we both need love. We both thrive on forgiveness and acceptance. If I’m quiet enough during the day, I can hear God say, “No, Collette!” Swat. Probablay more times than I swatted Tessie. That’s love. That’s guidance. That’s incredible. I close my eyes and enter my slumber, peacefully laying my head on God’s chest. What’s that I feel? God’s hand massaging my soul. I’ve spent my day depleting God’s reserves, now he can relax till morning, merely supervising trivial things like terrorism and hurricanes! I wonder, does he ask himself daily, Why did I do it?
