Written Saturday, October 8, 2011
Remember Mamita? The hood rat, uh, I mean street dog that I wanted to take to come live with me? Well I guess you can take the dog out the streets, but you can’t take the streets out the dog. After two confusing conversations with the previous owners, Mamita followed me home soon after I moved. I was so excited to have my precious (read that in the Lord of the Rings voice) home with me. Even though she made a lot of noise during the night, kept waking me up because of her scratching, and gave me watery eyes because of her filthy self, I was still glad to have her with me. The next day I gave her a bath. Of course she hated it. I let her go sit on the lawn in the sun to dry off. Next thing I knew she was gone. Now ain’t that something? Some people tried to assure me that she’d be back, but I knew she wouldn’t. And I was okay with that (especially after waking up with watery eyes).
It just made me think how sometimes God tries to take us in, clean us up, give us the consistent shelter of his presence and sustenance of his Word, and because we’re so used to “having our own freedom,” we’d rather live outside with flees and mange. Lord help us. Anyway, not to get too deep, just saying.
At any rate, I live in the same house where the previous volunteer lived while she was here, and the mother of the dog that she had has decided that she loves me and sleeps on my porch every night. She’s a pretty girl, so I give her food, water and love whenever possible.