Yesterday
was a very Freddy kind of day. For those
of you who don’t know, Freddy is one of our three dogs. Heidi, Fritz, and Freiderecke. See why we call her Freddy? There’s actually more to the story of her
name, but you’ll have to check my blog posts from about a year ago to get the
full impact. "Impact." Yep, that’s the right word. We have had Freddy since the Day of the
Impact … the day Chris hit her with the car.
So
Freddy had the kind of day that most dogs can only dream of. Oh, it began harmlessly enough. Cavorting in the back yard with Fritz and the
German Shepherd that lives behind us.
Heidi generally avoids such meaningless encounters, preferring instead
to remain in the air conditioned comfort of her bed. Later in the morning, though, Freddy was
lounging on a pillow in one of the recliners when she suddenly leapt from her
perch and raced to the front door. And
the barking began. Well, she is a small
dog, so it would probably be more accurate to say the yipping began. Fritz followed within seconds, and a few
seconds after that we realized that the problem was making his way up the
driveway … the postman cometh.
Now
here’s the thing about the postman.
Early that morning … I mean,
really early. It was exactly 7:48 a.m.
in fact … I was startled to glance out the front window to see a mail lady
delivering something to out mailbox. I
thought surely I was dreaming, but no.
She had sure enough made a mail delivery before 8 a.m. Amazing.
Of course, we had had no mail delivered at all on Saturday, and it was
obvious she was making up for that, but it was still an all-time record. But back to the Freddy encounter. She was doing her job, rather admirably, I must
say, when this second postman made his appearance. But something happened that served to not
only disconcert her, but in fact threaten her entire sense of canine
protocol. The mailman … came
inside. That’s right, he didn’t just
rattle the little box by the door and turn quickly to make his escape. He opened the door and came inside. And we seemed to be perfectly all right with
it. The yipping stopped and the sniffing
began. And the wiggling. And the tail wagging. And the licking. Within seconds Freddy transitioned from
protection mode to full on consorting with the mailman.
OK, I
know you all know by now that the mailman was my son Kel. He had been given a route near here, so he
came over to have lunch in air conditioned comfort instead of sitting in the
sauna box of a mail truck. But did
Freddy’s friends and neighbors know? And
would they be forgiving and accepting when next she sounds the postman
alarm? Or would there be only choruses
of “Hah. That’s the mailman-lover over
at the Vaughan house. Can’t trust
her. I’m not barking until I see the
blue of his shirt for myself.”
Sigh. Poor Freddy.
2
Peter 1:5-9 says, “For this very reason,
make every effort to add to your faith goodness; and to goodness, knowledge; and
to knowledge, self-control; and to self-control, perseverance; and to
perseverance, godliness; and to godliness, brotherly kindness; and to brotherly
kindness, love. For if you possess these
qualities in increasing measure, they will keep you from being ineffective and
unproductive in your knowledge of our Lord Jesus Christ.”
Father,
help me to be like Freddy, ready to accept into friendship even her sworn enemy. And thank you for a bit of a respite in our
day yesterday. I had no idea how much
rest I really did need. Could you grease
some wheels in the doctor department so I can get an appointment and get this neck
checked out? Amen.
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