R.I.P. Lucy

You were born 11 years ago...and a Christmas gift to my lovely bride.

A priceless addition to our new home.

I swore we wouldn't spoil you but within days, you were sleeping in our room.

And you had become absolutely entangled in our lives. You were our "child" before we had children.

You were our best friend. Always there at the end of the day with that goofy grin on your adorable, crooked face.

Yes, you destroyed the laundry room. Yes, you ate momma's eyeglasses...and a pair of scissors...and countless toys, hairbrushes, toothbrushes.

You became all too familiar with the "cone of shame."

You tormented the cat. (And I was okay with that!)

You learned to catch a frisbee. I still don't know how you jumped so high, with that girth!

You never really learned that WE were the ones taking YOU on a walk!

You disappeared while we were on vacation, and we spent 13 days scouring the tiny towns of Westcliffe and Silvercliffe for you. And when we found you, it was like finding a prodigal child. We rejoiced. We cried. We celebrated.

You dressed as "superdog" for Halloween, but you were terrified everytime trick-or-treaters rang the doorbell.

You wrestled with me in the living room.

You loved to play "hide and seek" (though you got a little over-excited when you finally found us.)

You even learned how to play football, carrying the ball by the laces as you rambled past me before I could tackle you.

But you hid everytime daddy watched the Cowboys play.

You loved the snow. And popcorn. And beer. Let's be honest--anything edible (and some things non-edible) that fell on the floor.

You never did catch that squirrel that tormented you in the backyard.

Even as you aged, you never lost that "puppy-like" softness to your ears.

And when we did finally have kids, you took such good care of them. Even when they pulled your hair, threw toys at you and

poked.

poked.

poked.

You brought so much joy, Lucy.

You were part of our family.

And we will miss you terribly.

Rest in peace, sweet girl.

Lesson in Grace

This past weekend, I was taught a lesson in grace...by my dog...and I failed. Lucy is a mutt. She was part of an abandoned litter. I got her for Jen eight years ago, for Christmas. We've been through a lot with this dog: First year: She ate our laundry room. Yes, I mean she actually ate the room. She ate holes in the drywall and door trim. Then, we repaired those things and repainted. She loved the smell of the paint, so she licked it all off. Year two: She cut her toe on the edging in the lawn. Saturday night. Doggie Emergency room. Stitches. $250. Year three: She ate a pair of Jen's eyeglasses. Frames...lenses...everything. Gone. Sunday evening. Emergency room. X-rays. $200. Also, two remote controls. (We have all "universal" remotes now, because no original remotes have survived.) Year four: She snuck downstairs and got into the Halloween candy. She ate the entire bowl...wrappers...boxes, popsicle sticks...everything. Visit to the doctor's office. $120. Year five: A pair of rubber gloves, a couple of kitchen sponges. Year six: An entire loaf of bread...more sponges...a kitchen spatula...a dishcloth...a frisbee... Year seven: We start noticing that we're going through toilet paper like crazy. Yep, she slurps it up off the roll...like spaghetti. Present day: We're getting ready to sell the house...so we're trying to clean everything, paint what needs to be painted, etc. One of the things we're trying to avoid is having to replace the carpet. We're hoping we can just get by with a good cleaning. So, we left Lucy in the backyard most of the day. While we were working, Lucy snuck into Jen's garden and ate all of her cornstalks. Not just the corn...the leaves...the stalks...everything. Of course, we don't notice at first...until she comes back into the house and hurls in three different rooms...six spots in all. Dark, disgusting, smelly stains. That was it for me. My patience had run out. If not for my sweet wife, I would have loaded the dog into the car and taken her to the Humane Society right away. I love this dog...she has brought me tremendous joy over the years...but I've just reached my limit on forgiveness. I'm tired of fixing or replacing everything she destroys. I'm tired of her doing the same thing over and over and over without learning to be better. I'm tired. And then I'm reminded: what if God felt the same about me? What if He said, "That's it Tim. I've had it. You're obviously never going to get it right. Time to get rid of you." Ouch. Grace. It IS amazing...and incomprehensible. And it's a lesson I have to learn...from my dog.