Since we don't have kids, all things come through a dog mom perspective.
As I vacuumed this morning, the puppy ran from one room to another. He'd sneak around the couch and then back to the bedroom. It wasn't the first time, he does this every time I vacuum. The little guy is pretty fearless.
Even when he was 2 lbs, he wasn't afraid of the bigger dogs. He had kind of a badass puppy mentality and feared nothing. You can imagine how the other dogs took that. The more mature dogs quickly established their dominance and let him know who was boss. More than once, he got snapped at. Nothing destructive, but they put him in his place.
He started to learn that he could get hurt. He began to see that world is a lot bigger than him. He started to show fear. He's not anxious, but he does have some fears. Some are very similar to what I've seen in children.
Obviously, he's afraid of the vacuum. He's scared of thunder. When we leave him in his kennel, he's fearful we won't return. I know because he won't leave my side when we get home and he cries when I get him out. A couple times, he's choked and come running. He wasn't in any danger, but he was shaking with fear.
Today, after the vacuum was put away, he jumped in my lap. I could tell he was relieved. I patted his little head and told him that the vacuum was harmless and I'd never let anything hurt him. He doesn't understand my words, but he understands that I'm a source of comfort and safety when he's afraid. He knows in my arms, bad things won't happen.
That's true. I love him and all my dogs. I made a decision to love and care for them and I take that seriously. Our pets aren't something we have just because it's a social norm. We've carefully chosen and committed to caring for them to the best of our ability until their last breath. That means we comfort and protect.
We have four dogs. I know all of their fears. Lucy is the oldest. She is afraid of strangers, animals bigger than her and tractors. Gizmo, our other boy, is afraid of machines of any kind. The poor guy runs away from the mixer. Winnie, our tiniest and most traumatized rescue, is afraid of men, leashes and stairs. We've comforted them all at different times.
We aren't sure what drives their fear, but know they have nothing to worry about. We will protect them to the best of our ability.
As I thought about that this morning, I think that's something I've been missing my entire life. Up until I was 32, I never had anyone comfort me through any of my fears. Nobody to really protect me. When I finally had one or two people who tried, I never believed them. It's something I've desperately needed this past year and didn't have.
It's funny, I know the typical Christian response to what I'm saying. God is sufficient. He is the answer. He is the comforter. Take all your fears to Him. I get it, I really do.
But...
I'm a slave to my flesh. Even though I know truth, I still need and desire an earthly comforter. I don't think it's wrong to want comfort in earthly form. I think it's a very real form of the hands and feet of Jesus. I guess what I'm saying is that the desire is absolutely normal and God can use anyone he'd like to be just that.
I'm 40 years old. I'm probably too old for anyone to pat me on the head and tell me it's ok, the vacuum or thunder won't hurt me. But even at 40, I still want that comfort when fear overwhelms me.
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