Rejected by a Rescue dog.

Mr. Bultitude

I am a dog person.  I don’t dislike cats, unless they are near me.  I just have a thing for dogs.  When our daughter was in the Navy she wasn’t allowed to take her dog on board the ship so we got to keep Hera.  When she got out of the Navy she wanted her dog back and so we were without a dog.  Enter Mr. Bultitude.  Mr. Bultitude, named for a character in C. S. Lewis’ book That Hideous Strength, was a rescue dog.

He had apparently lived much of his life in abusive homes or as a stray.  His disposition was nervous and he seemed to always be afraid.  He was a Jack Russell and Dachshund mix, which added to his complex personality.  When we got Bultitude he was a mess and he made a mess in almost every room of the house.  By the way, a nervous dog has digestive problems that manifest on both ends.  With care and time and a lot of cleanup, Bultitude settled into a domestic life as our dog.   He had a bed for sleeping, food always available, clean water, multiple daily walks, squirrels to chase and three people to pet him and play with him.  He learned to play dead on the command, “Dead Dog”. 

By the way, this is a great trick to teach your dog and show Jehovah Witnesses when they come to your door.  Tell them your dog is a religion expert and call the dog over and ask him, “Would you rather be a Jehovah Witness or a dead dog?”  A well-trained dog flops down and illustrates a great theological truth.  But you need to know that they might find this offensive and stop coming back to your house. 

At this point, I have to introduce a new character in this story, Karen.  Karen is my wife’s best friend and an extreme dog lover.  Karen has a knack of attracting the most pitiful stray dogs and giving them a home.  When we got Bultitude Karen had three dogs, two of which were very, very old.  It so happened that Karen’s two older dogs died near the same time.   Both of these dogs were in their 90s, in human years.  Karen being a friend and dog lover agreed to keep Bultitude over Thanksgiving while we went to visit family.  Bultitude and Karen’s dog Whizzer had a great time that weekend. 

When we returned and Karen brought Bultitude back he was not a happy camper.  When she left he sat at the door and whined.  He regressed and started messing the house again.  He was off his feed and acted perpetually afraid again.  He wouldn’t come to me, or my son, and when called would go hide behind my wife’s feet and shake from nose to tail.  Finally, we asked Karen if she wanted another dog and so Bultitude found a new home. 

In a way I was angry.  This mutt was in a pound, in a small crate, with little affection and no one wanting him.  We gave him a home, plenty of food, a bed, a yard, plenty of playtime and affection.  He went from nothing to having it pretty good.  Let me tell you that nothing wounds the pride like being rejected by a rescue dog.  But there is a lesson for us. 

I am Mr. Bultitude; we all are.  We are tempted to the great and grievous sin of ingratitude.  In Romans 1, Paul describes the downward spiral of sinful man.  By verses 28-32 we see that man is a pretty wretched being.  But it begins in verse 21 where man is described as not honoring God and as being unthankful.

Spiritually speaking we had/have nothing.   We were isolated and lonely, abandoned, living a miserable existence, disconnected from real affection and in a life that is more prison that home.  Because of our past experiences and hurts we live in constant fear of being a mess and making a mess everywhere.    God offers us real happiness, companionship, and belonging.  And often times like Mr. Bultitude we are ungrateful. (Unlike Mr. Bultitude we never get a better offer)

It is easy for all of us to look around and express our discontent.  “Why is their life so much better than mine?”  “They have better _______________ (you can fill in the blank with any area of discontentment you have) than I do.”  “Everything is so hard for me and so easy for others.”  “I never catch a break and they get them all the time.”  In any one of hundreds of ways we let discontentment turn into ingratitude and poison our lives.  We build for ourselves a prison that never allows us to see what God is doing.  We are like a stray abused dog, in a small crate, on a cold concrete floor, in a lonely pound, with no access to affection or the beauty of the outdoors.  But unlike a rescue dog we have built our own prison. 

In 1897, Johnson Oatman released a song for young people that still offers some pretty good advice to keep us out of the pound of self pity.  Take a moment and review the lyrics and see if they don’t change your perspective.   http://library.timelesstruths.org/music/Count_Your_Blessings/