Mr. McNaughty

Marj shares this with us--

Several years ago, my friend Nancy informed me that her daughter Stephanie had decided she needed a Cairn terrier. Nancy was not pleased about this because 1). She doesn’t like small dogs, and 2). She lives with Stephanie.

Soon after, the dog, a light-brown rescue animal that had been very neglected, moved in. Stephanie named him Findlay, but it wasn’t long before nobody called him that. Now he mostly answers to "Mr. McNaughty". Well, that isn’t strictly true. He is called Mr. McNaughty.

Mr. McNaughty has distinguished himself in a variety of ways. He has gained a considerable amount of weight. I mean, a considerable amount. He has graduated from obedience school – three times. The general consensus is that the third time wasn’t any more successful than the first, so three courses will be the extent of his educational career. He steals toys from the diaper bags of small children when they visit. He yaps. He has a "skin condition". He is everything Nancy was afraid he’d be.

And - he is no longer the only Cairn terrier in that home. Findlay is Stephanie’s dog. Clara belongs to Nancy, who confessed to me with some embarrassment that she has become "quite foolish" about that dog. About both dogs.

I didn’t laugh (much). Because through grace, I’ve had those experiences, too. When I open myself to the things God sends my way, even (or especially) if I don’t want to, He rewards me in ways I don’t expect. Like being willing to admit I was wrong. Like making time in my life for things that didn’t used to be important.

Like learning to love a dog.