I think dogs are great.

I’ve only ever had one dog of my own. His name was Max. I don’t count the dogs my family had when I was growing up as “mine” — mostly because none of those dogs liked me very much. As far as the “pack-animal-order-of-things” goes, I’m pretty sure my family’s pets all considered me the least valuable member of the pack. I don’t blame the dogs, tho… When I was very little, I know I pulled our dog Pugsy’s tail a lot, and, I do believe that my “extreme cuddling” attempts kind of overwhelmed our already neurotic dog, Sammy. 

(I guess it is possible to love too hard!)

But my sister often uses the “human-dog relationship” to help her sort her thoughts about God, and I guess I was thinking about that idea when I was on my hike today. I had reached the top of my favorite hill, and I was really having a good, hard think about my life. We’re nearing the end of another year in the Wine Country, and I wish I knew what’s next for me, but I don’t. So I was chatting to God about that, I suppose… And I was telling Him that even tho I don’t know anything, I’ll trust Him just the same.

But just as I fell so deep into my own thoughts about all of that, I nearly jumped out of my skin when this wet, cold…thing pressed into the back of my hand! At first, I was afraid of the “mystery moisture,” but almost immediately, I discovered the feeling was the slobbery nose of the most adorable Golden Retriever I’ve seen in a while. He was mashing his nose into my hand for a “hello sniff,” and once I made eye-contact with him, I realized he was simply perfect!

Not long after I organized my thoughts around this super happy dog, I heard his owner shouting his name in the distance. It turned out, his name was Trevor, and as soon as he heard his “dad” calling for him, Trevor jerked his entire body — not just his head — in the direction of the shout. For some reason, the reaction was heartbreakingly adorable to me! Trevor didn’t run off toward his owner right away, but instead, he stayed right next to me, wagging his hindquarters as his owner finally appeared over the crest of the hill. But as soon as he saw his master, it was as if it had been ages since Trevor saw him…

And Trevor’s greeting was over-the-top and utterly filled with joy!

Before he dashed off, I managed to pet Trevor on the head for a second. His fur was so soft, but he had tons of weeds and dead leaves matted into his underbelly. But this dog was so carefree and happy and his spirit was truly contagious! I couldn’t help but smile as I watched Trevor and his owner move past me on my rock and start the steep descent down the hiking path. In such a simple exchange, my heart was suddenly filled with this calm and complete kind of understanding. 

Before long, Trevor and his owner were cutting across a path that led to the valley floor, and from my vantage point high up on that rocky ridge, I could see the lower section of the vast vineyard where the Chardonnay vines grow. I watched Trevor dash ahead of his owner again, and this time, he took a major detour and sprinted down a row of vines. He must’ve been chasing a bird or a bunny or something because he was moving fast and with a lot of focus. But when I heard his master call out, “Treee-voor!”  I noticed how the dog jerked his entire body toward the sound of the voice, and then he started barreling back toward the main path once again.

As far as dogs go, I’ve always felt like if Lou were a dog, he’d totally be a Golden, and watching Trevor at that moment made me think of Lou. He’s always curious and friendly, and he’s not one to lag behind when there’s so much to explore up ahead of him. But he’s so loyal, and whenever I call his name, he hears me, and…he always comes back to walk by my side!

If I were a dog, I already know I’d never be a Golden. I’m too cautious and prone to worry. I’ve mentioned several times on this blog — and in my memoir — that I think I’m more like a Chihuahua than any other animal. And not just any Chihuahua. I’m a little teacup situation with some over-breeding in my past that has made me internally nervous. I can be calm, of course, but only when I’m certain I’m safe. That’s when I can curl up next to someone I love and be downright chill. But if something in my world makes me feel vulnerable, I turn into this little dog who’s afraid to put all of her weight on her paws out of fear that the surface under her feet might be dirty, or might not hold her for very long.

But just like Lou — and Trevor! — there is a voice I hear that calls me, and no matter what, I will eventually run toward it… Even if I’m afraid. I don’t always understand why the voice is calling me to pursue one path over another and…as a little dog without a curious nature, sometimes I just wish my Master would carry me to where I’m supposed to be because I get so tired of wandering with no clear direction. I seem to only find the courage to chase a butterfly that’s hovering in a fenced-in space, although…when I really think about it, I sincerely wish I could find the faith to pursue more.

Thinking about how different Lou and I are by assigning our personalities to a dog like Trevor, and a teacup Chihuahua (which, if you’ve read my stuff, you know I’ve named Juanita) lightened and lifted my thoughts somehow on that hike. And when I think about how Trevor’s owner gave his dog the freedom to run, and the confidence to know he’s never going to get lost, it inspired me.

I know there are certain things about me that are built-in and almost set in stone, and as I get older, those things become even more difficult to change. But something hit me today as I watched Trevor chase that bunny, and I started to think about how much joy it brought me when Trevor ran ahead of his master to say hello to me. That freedom to experience and connect was a beautiful thing, and I wonder sometimes how prone I am to avoiding that kind of freedom in my own life because of my most irrational fears?

I believe we’re called to experience freedom in our faith — not fear or trepidation. But I know the struggle deep inside of me comes from a place where I’ve made so many mistakes in my life that have taken me off of a course I want to believe was the one I should’ve stayed on that those internal doubts make me too conflicted to dash ahead or move too quickly. I think on some level, I recognize this contained part of myself all the time, and in many ways, I’ve decided I’m doing the “right thing” to keep my life and my faith so tight. But then…

Seeing Trevor run and explore made me question my own behavior and the choices I think I’m making in my life for all of the “right” reasons.

But as I made my way down the steep hill shortly after Trevor and his owner we out of sight, I started to realize the only thing I really need to change about myself is my willingness to hear my Master’s call. If I can accept that it’s the sound of His voice that keeps me on track — not simply the path I choose or don’t choose — it won’t really matter if I lag behind…or rush ahead, or keep my pace in stride with God because I can’t get lost or risk too much as long as I listen for His voice, calling me back to the path He has for me.

I really needed that reminder this week…

(But b and Lou? This doesn’t mean I’m ready for a dog!)