Great Dog Stories (21 page)

Over time, my trust and love for God have grown too. I’ve seen how His desires for me are for my good. And I’ve realized there is no better place to be than joyfully, willingly dwelling in the playpen of His loving care.

Revenge, at first though sweet,

Bitter ere long back on itself recoils.

J
OHN
M
ILTON

W
hen Keith was nine there were two things he treasured above all else. The first was his precious German shepherd/terrier mix named Fred. He was the dog every little boy dreams of—the perfect companion for long summer days, who never complained about getting dirty, who worshipped the very ground his boy walked on. And Keith loved Fred with all his heart.

The second thing Keith treasured above all other material things was the best Christmas gift he ever got from his parents: a 1/32 die-cast model of the coolest car on earth. James Bond’s silver Aston Martin DB5, as featured in the film
Goldfinger
.

Manufactured by Corgi (not the dog), this imported precision machine was not to be confused with the domestic-made clunkier version of the Bond car. No, Keith’s DB5 was not your common everyday toy car, but a work of art. To call this James Bond iconic miniature a toy car would be something just short of slander. This DB5 was a daydream come true for boys of Keith’s generation. It was a kind of time machine that could transport a nine-year-old into the coolest, most suave and sophisticated adulthood, racing his DB5 through exotic foreign locales, beautiful assistant at his side, fighting evil super-spies with the latest incredible high-tech weapons.

Keith’s DB5 may have been small enough to fit in his hand but it still had all the gadgets that made the Bond car so super cool. It had the extendable tire-slasher knock-off hubcaps. The bullet-proof shield that popped up from the trunk. Automatic rotating license plate. And best of all, his Bond car even had the ejector passenger seat to send the tiny bad guy holding a gun on Keith sailing up, out, and away.

Fred, on the other hand, did not have an elite Aston Martin pedigree. He was just your average domestic mutt. Four legs, a tail, two brown eyes—no special high-tech features. No X-ray vision or Cheetah-fast bionic legs or the ability to hula hoop. If Fred were a car, he’d be a family minivan.

But what Fred lacked in coolness or exoticism he made up for with qualities money can’t buy. Keith told me Fred was the most loyal, loving, and energetic dog in the world—everything a nine-year-old boy could want!

There was a boy who lived around the corner from Keith who would occasionally drop over. Mario wasn’t best friend material, but he was a convenient kid to have around when Keith needed a human playmate. He and Keith would play with the usual action figures and board games or romp around the backyard with Fred.

But what really put the twinkle in Mario’s eyes was nothing less than Keith’s Aston Martin DB5. Somehow, no matter what they were doing, Mario always found a way to get himself into the driver’s seat of Keith’s sports car and drive away on his own fantasy adventures.

One day, Keith felt the usual urge to be James Bond and went to get his car. It wasn’t on the shelf where it was supposed to be. Keith tore his room apart trying to find his silver Aston Martin. He searched the whole house, then the entire yard to the point of exhaustion. He finally realized the horrific truth. His precious car was gone!

Looking back, Keith still recalls his profound feelings of loss and violation, probably the same he’d feel if his present adult car were stolen. Actually, after a moment of reflection, Keith said he felt worse about the 1/32 scale Aston Martin.

Even as a kid, Keith didn’t have to be Sherlock Holmes to come up with his number one suspect. When Keith went by Mario’s house to inquire about his car, Mario’s big sister told Keith that Mario was busy. Mario never confessed to the crime. But before the DB5 incident, Mario was always dropping by unannounced to play. Afterwards, he never came over again. Keith had no proof that Mario was the culprit and short of turning his house inside out, Keith would have to take Mario at his word: he was innocent. He didn’t take the DB5. (Perhaps it was beamed up by aliens, or the victim of spontaneous combustion?)

Keith was devastated. But at least he still had his trusty pal, Fred, to lick his face and console him. Fred just listened as Keith ranted and spilled out his feelings about the stolen car.

Shortly after the car went missing, Mario and his brother were playing Frisbee in front of Keith’s house. An errant toss sent the Frisbee flying over the fence and into Keith’s backyard (Fred’s domain). Mario had gone over to Keith’s yard many times, and had no fear of gentle Fred, so he let himself in the gate to fetch his Frisbee.

Without warning, Fred attacked Mario and bit his hand. While not life-threatening, it was serious enough to send a crying Mario to the local hospital for stitches.

Later that night, Keith had a powwow with Fred. They locked eyes and silently communicated as boys and their dogs have done since the beginning of time. Without a word being spoken, Keith understood that Fred knew. His trusty dog companion knew Mario had been a very bad boy and took it upon himself to punish the thief. Up to that time, Fred had never laid a tooth on Mario. To this day, Keith truly feels Fred exacted the punishment on Mario that Keith could not. Even as a nine-year-old, Keith felt there was justice in the world.

How many of us have been wronged and there was nothing we could do about it? We didn’t want to stoop to the level of the perpetrators, we had no proof, or whoever did us wrong was far bigger and stronger than us. But if we do nothing but dwell on thoughts and fantasies of revenge, it can eat us up inside. Negative thinking can take up large amounts of space in our minds, turning our countenances dark and angry, building up unhealthy amounts of poisonous unforgiveness and hate.

But it’s not fair!

A building contractor recently swindled my wife and me out of a large sum of money. I hear it happens so much there’s actually a television reality program in development called
Contractors from Hell.
I called the police to arrest the man, but they said it was a civil matter. We sued him and won, but discovered that collecting the money is a whole other ballgame. A collection agency charges 40 to 50 percent if they’re successful in recovering any funds. Well-meaning friends told us to hire a hit man…or at least sic a “hit dog” like Fred on him.

Thinking about the wrong done to us churned up my insides. I couldn’t sleep at night. I could relate to how angry and frustrated Keith felt about being ripped off by someone he trusted. And how in the world could we finish the house without recovering the missing money?

It would be so nice if God sanctioned a Revenge Day where you could inflict Old Testament punishment on your enemies without fear of reprisal. But like Warren G. Harding’s birthday ever becoming a national holiday, Revenge Day ain’t gonna happen.

Little Keith had Fred to look out for him. My wife and I came to realize we have Someone, too, who looks out for us. We had to let go of our feelings of violation, anger, and pain—and wait on God. We had to believe we were God’s children and that He would take care of us like the best Father in the universe.

Just as nine-year-old Keith believed that Fred knew what Mario did and exacted justice—just as Keith could feel the burden of revenge lifted off his shoulders by Fred’s intervention—so we must believe what God our Father says in Romans 12:19 (
NASB
): “Never take your own revenge, beloved, but leave room for the wrath of God, for it is written, ‘Vengeance is mine, I will repay,’ says the Lord.”

This is gospel truth. God says never take your own revenge. He’s the perfect Father who will take care of it for you.

Fred went to bat for Keith by biting Mario’s hand. God has cared for my wife and me in a different way. He has lifted the hatred and need for revenge from my heart. He’s gifted us with money to finish the house in ways that rival catching a fish with a coin in its mouth. Each time we receive this kind of monetary blessing, a little bell rings in my heart to remind me it’s from God. I no longer daydream about ways to poison our contractor from hell. God has lifted that burden off me. Nowadays, I’ve been praying for the guy who cheated us to repent and be saved.

Fred loved Keith.

God loves us.

It’s nice to have Someone looking out for your best interests.

No man can follow Christ and go astray.

W
ILLIAM
H.P. F
AUNCE

T
he John Fleishauer family includes John, his wife, Sari, his daughter, Sierra, and two schnauzers. The dogs are nearly the same age and are both considered miniatures, even though they are somewhat different in size. Hangover is a gorgeous 23-pound male with a beautiful coat. He is tall and lean and stands like a champion, although in his heart he’s still a warm, sweet little puppy. Sadie is smaller, at just ten pounds, and has a more hyper personality. She loves to jump from lap to lap until she decides which one to snuggle into for some nap time.

One day, after the family had left for work and school, Sadie got out of the yard through a loose fence board. This was her first time to escape. Hangover was too big to follow, so she was on her own. Sadie’s family doesn’t know how long she was out. It was a half-day at the school where Sari taught, so she came home early. Their home is in a quiet neighborhood, but it’s near a very busy street. As Sari approached, she saw a little dog barking with all it had at a windmill on their neighbor’s lawn. Her heart nearly jumped out of her chest when she realized that the silly dog was her Sadie. She opened the car door and yelled for Sadie to come. Sadie stopped barking instantly, gave Sari a huge puppy smile, pranced over to the car, and jumped in. She began kissing Sari the only way she knows how—all tongue.

When Sari got Sadie home, she carried the dog inside and they both sat on the couch while Sari caught her breath. She could tell Sadie knew she was in trouble by the way she had her ears pinned back. But the little dog continued her sweet puppy smile, apparently hoping that Sari would forget what had just happened. Sari figured it was in a dog’s nature to roam and wasn’t about to punish Sadie after the fact. John fixed the fence, and he and his family planted a garden where the loose board had been.

Leaving the yard was disobedient and foolish, but thanks to Sari, Sadie was protected from venturing further and reaching the busy street. Years ago, back in my “puppy days,” I was foolish this way too. I disobeyed and wandered away, and I nearly got into big trouble.