Happy Birthday to my dog who keeps me safe from rabbits, skunks and foremost the mailman. She is 49 years old today making her menopausal, but we fixed that a few years ago, so her temperament is as predictable as sunrise. Her super hearing and her sense of smell give me a sense of comfort when I awaken during the night as I hear her softly moving through the house. Should the marauding raccoons cruise through our nighttime yard she warns them and alerts me with a very low ever so deep rumbling sound. She makes me feel welcome when I come home from school, sometimes even when I am only returning from the mailbox.
I have a friend who quotes Revelation 22:15 to remind me that I better get my fill of dogs now because there will be no dogs in heaven. My friend thinks God is a “cat person.” Obviously this verse is a solid argument against Biblical literalism.
I cannot remember never having a dog. Jazz, my current canine, is my number twelve. While I do not believe Jesus died on the cross for animals, I do believe Jesus wants to personalize heaven for us by making my home better than yours and yours better than mine. Therefore, because of God’s great love for us He will do all He can to make heaven the best place ever for us. Thus, I await opening the front door of my heavenly home and being besieged by a dozen dogs so happy to see me because I returned from going outside to get the mail. (There will be no junk mail in heaven.)
So Happy Birthday Jazz. We are off to Burger King to get you a Whopper.
Spring Of Life