Before I ever thought of bringing them home, male and female, I prepared a fantastic oasis for them. They would have lots of room to romp and play in a nice fenced in backyard. They would be sheltered in the house at night, during the days I was at work and in bad weather. They would have full range of my home. I purchased the food, toys,and bedding they would require. They would not have to work, hunt for food or shelter. Every thing was safe, they would not be savaged by neighboring coyotes. They were never in danger. I read extensively about their care. Then I brought them home. I never felt I made a mistake. They showered me with love and devotion. When I came home in the evenings they greeted me with joy. No complaints. Never mind they were in the house while their friends were scavaging through the alley trash cans scattering garbage in their wake.(This sounds bad to us, but it's doggy gourmet dining.) They followed me around the house like waves behind a boat. Their eyes never left me. Whenever I looked down at them, they were looking up to me. In sickness they trusted me to have the answers. They thanked me for their health. They laid down at me feet and I scratched their backs and rubbed their bellies. We were always in sync. They could predict from my actions what would come next in their schedules. Whenever I left them they knew I would return, I would never abandon them, I would be there every night to cuddle and love them. I only had one rule, don't chew my shoes. I never put them up. Shoes were all over the house. By the back door, by the bathroom, by the dressers ect. Oh, my, I came home one day and my favorite dress shoes were newly converted sandals. I was broken hearted. They had chew toys galore, why ruin my favorite,(actually only) pair of dress foot wear? I looked all over for the culprits. They would not come out of hiding. They could hear the pain and disappointment in my voice. They were ashamed. Slowly I coaxed them out from under the bed. They had the evidence still in their teeth. They hung their heads low. Yes, I was mad. From now on they would have restrictions to my bed room. They could no longer come in unless my closet was closed with all my shoes tucked safely away. I worried about my remaining shoes. If they shredded one pair would this cascade into standard procedure. Would more shoes meet a dental demise? The bond of trust was broken. A rule was broken. I sent them outside now during the day. What else would they destroy if I allowed them free access to the house. I still loved them and cared for them but things changed slightly. They had a haunted hurt look about them. They tried desperately to make it up to me with extra works, giving me bed baths and doing comedy routines, rolling an tumbling around. I still was without my best shoes. Now I knew what God went through in the beginning. This totally reminds me of the story of Adam and Eve and how they let God down. Odd, History does repeat itself...except I'm not about to sacrifice one of my kids to make atonement, and I have more than one child. God must really have love us.
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