What my dog teaches me about God

I have two dogs. One is a neurotic, co-dependent Schnauzer named Moxie. But despite her quirks, I love her.

The other is a Cairn Terrier named Penne.

(Hence I have a Moxicillin and a Penicillin.)

Though I know the Divine exists in all things, I am particularly struck by how my Penne models God.

She loves me unconditionally. I don’t have to earn her trust of love; she just accepts me.

She is affectionate. She likes to snuggle and licks me with great affection. (I know she likes the salt on my skin in the summer, but I also think it’s her way of saying, “I love you.”)

But the strongest attribute of my little black pooch is that she is keenly aware of me. I get busy and forget all about her; but she keeps tabs on me. When I walk from one room to another (including the bathroom), she follows me; I look down to see the little Penne at my feet.

I think it’s amazing that one being can be so acutely aware and in touch with another. Even as I wrote this last sentence, she walked up and gave me eye contact. I guess it’s her way of “checking in.”

I do think the Divine is acutely aware and attentative, always in touch and never far away.

Like the affection of an amazing little creature, how much more the thought that the creator of the universe not only knows my name, but follows me around wherever I go. Wow. That’s pretty cool.