Sometimes I don’t understand why God answers us the way he does. I mean, not to be picky or anything, but when I started praying a few months ago that he would help us get to know our neighbors better, I didn’t expect it to involve dog sitting for two weeks straight.
Okay God, I’m trying to have an open mind here. But every time we walk into the apartment to feed her and take her out, I’m praying that she doesn’t eat us alive. That’s right, she’s nothing cute like a cocker spaniel or one of those dogs that’s so fuzzy you can’t tell where their fur ends and they begin. No, this is a larger-than-life, probably-weighs-more-than-me can’t-tell-what-breed-she-is gigantic mut named Roxy. The first time we walked in to take her out, she let out the deepest growl I’d ever heard and I really just prayed that we wouldn’t end up in the ER or have to kill this dog we promised to watch over. I just keep reminding God that we won’t be very close with our neighbor if he comes home to a stuffed dog versus the real one he left in our care. Even though the thought makes me giggle.
There are several things I don’t understand about this scenario, starting with why you would own a giganto dog when you plan to leave the 48 contiguous states for weeks at a time. While our neighbor is traipsing the isles of Hawaii, we’re risking our extremities to feed and nurture his dog. Also- why would he choose us to dog sit when every other person in the building actually owns a dog? Who can really say? Maybe the lack of a dog screams, “Aw, this poor couple doesn’t have a dog to play with. I’ll let them hang with Roxy for the next few weeks.” When all it actually means is that I don’t particularly enjoy the canine family and choose to live dog free for the sake of my furniture and my marriage. But those are just little details.
God- I know this is an answered prayer, so I’m trying to accept while not kicking and screaming. At the dog or at you. I’m willing to do this. But I really hope you come through big time.