Dog Hair Soup

We have reached the time of year when the signs of spring begin emerging all around. Surprise lilies are sprouting, the grass is greening, and frosty mornings are melting away with each passing day. The warmth of spring is a joyous time. It refreshes and livens the most dormant of creatures after several months of cold wind chilled days.

While I welcome 70 degree afternoons, I will miss those still calm mornings of winter. Everyone has their season, a time when they feel most alive. For me that has always been those autumn and winter months. I’ll hold onto wearing hoodies and jeans till the sweat of April’s sun forces my hand to change. 

Everything changes with spring’s arrival, even the food we eat. My affection for hot bowls of soup and hearty cups of chili just doesn’t seem to grab my appetite outside the month of February. Recently, in one last effort to hold winter close, I made a batch of white chicken chili. A ceremonial goodbye meal for the end of my favorite season, if you will. I prepped all the ingredients, set the crockpot to low, and waited to enjoy the fleeting spoils of a wintertime luxury.

Later on, with much joy and anticipation, I sat down to enjoy a bowl. As I put the first spoonful to my mouth I glanced down to find one unexpected ingredient nearing my lips. One short black hair lay atop the creamy white soup. It seemed like it was placed there ever so delicately for me to notice and appreciate. 

It was a garnish of the strangest sort. 

As I lowered my spoon to inspect it further, I glanced up to find the depositor of this unwelcomed ingredient peering over the edge of my bowl, watching my every move. His bright brown eyes and fuzzy black muzzle drew closer as I removed the little black piece of fur from my spoon. He remained by my side, unashamed, as I continued eating my meal and he waited restlessly in hopes of trying it himself. 

Dog hair soup is a frequent dish served in our home. I confess that writing such a sentence most likely forfeits my right to future dinner guests, but it is the reality of living with a four legged companion. Growing up, we always had dogs in and around the house. Over the years we have had big dogs and little dogs, as well as smart dogs and not-as-smart dogs. Those that came and went included terriers, hounds, pointers, and retrievers. The latter is still my favorite. 

It has never bothered me to feel that nudge of a nose against my leg from beneath the table at dinner time. It was and still is an expected occurrence. While I know there are many people who feel as comfortable regarding dogs in the home as me, I know that is not the case for all. My wife did not grow up having dogs inside. It was quite an adjustment for her to get used to seeing a 75 pound labrador lounging on the couch as if he spent his own money to be there. Perhaps the most challenging adjustment has been dealing with all the rogue hairs left behind by our lab companion. I have to remind my wife that labs only shed twice per year, for six months in the fall and six months in the spring!

Our vacuums (yes plural) work overtime picking up the tumbleweeds of black fur that accumulate across the house. Despite every effort to keep them gone they appear again and again. A loving plague of sorts to remind you of the one they belong to. These little black hairs find their way into clothes, the car, the couch, and yes sometimes even spoonfuls of soup. It's a price you have to be willing to pay for their companionship and pay I do.

Working from home means my lab is always with me. Our routines are generally synced and he is typically by my side at all times. Even now, I type this to the rhythm of heavy breathing beneath my feet. I’m not sure why some folks are drawn to love dogs and some are not. I am just grateful that I am in the group that does. Muddy paw prints on the kitchen tile and nose smudges on every window don’t seem to be so bad when they lay their head in your lap at the end of a long day. 

Perhaps we over love our dogs at times or personify them too much, but there is no denying the bond between man and his dog. Mine not only understands my words, but my body language too. He can sense when things are wrong and when moments are lighthearted and fun. Dogs are not people, but they are friends all the same. Like all of creation, they are a gift from the Lord to enjoy, to respect, and to care for. 

You might be surprised to see the vast number of places in scripture where we are reminded that animals, as part of creation, are highly valued and cared for by God. He also cares deeply about how we interact with them. Proverbs 12:10 says that the righteous person has regard/or cares for his beast. The Psalms are another great place to go to be reminded that God cares for the needs of his creation. Here is one specific example from Psalm 145:

Psalm 145:16 

You open your hand;

    you satisfy the desire of every living thing.

Is it a stretch to say that the Lord cares for our dogs not only because they are part of his creation, but also because we love them so much? As a father cares for the well being of his child’s favorite toy, so does our heavenly Father care for the things of our affection too. Of course, the father loves his children vastly more than the toy, but he will still search for it if it goes missing or mourn its breaking because of how much it meant to the one he loves. Similarly, of course our Father loves us vastly more than any animal, but he still cares for the well being of the beast on account of his children who love them. 

Even if dogs are just for this life then I am grateful for the gift they are. I just wish the Lord would let them stick around for a little longer. When those black muzzles turn to grey you truly realize how valuable of a gift you were given. In the end, when those deep snoring breaths come to a stop and those brown eyes gently close you will come to know their true purpose.

I’m not sure if all dogs go to heaven, but I hope some do. I know that the joys of heaven will not depend on whether or not I see my pups there. Christ is of greater and infinite worth. His presence is what will make the joy of heaven complete. However, I would not be surprised if upon my first dinner at the Father's table that I feel that all familiar nudge at my leg and look down to find bright brown eyes looking back at me again. I sure hope that’s the case. The more I think about it the more it makes me smile. 

To think that, yes, even in glory they will serve dog hair soup.