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Saturday, October 8, 2016

Unshackled Moments ~ October 8 ~ Lessons From A Cowardly Cavlier

Leah has a puppy almost six months old that makes the Cowardly Lion look courageous. Seriously, this little Cavalier is so anxious it's irritating. I have seen dogs that have been beaten and have lived as strays that weren't nearly as traumatized by the sound of their own breathing as Tiffany is. OK, I don't know if her own breathing scares her, but noises that don't make the other animals turn to see what's going on have her running for cover, and if a stranger were to see her react to me when I walk into a room they would testify that I surely must beat her savagely, although I have never raised a hand to her. She will cuddle with Leah and follow her around the house, but the moment Leah calls her or turns in her direction, she scampers off afraid.

I really hope she outgrows this stage or gets over it, although she seems to have been born with it. There is no cause for her to have the worst case of PTSD I've ever seen in a canine. Yesterday the situation escalated beyond belief or logic. I have never seen anything like it.

Leah and I have a yard fenced off for the many canine units that I feed daily. I think my love for my wife can be somewhat measured by the number of Cavalier King Charles Spaniels and Cav mutt mixes running around the yard and actually living in the house. There is a low powered electric fence around the perimeter that serves to keep our dogs in the yard and the neighborhood dogs out. It's not bad, I've hit it several times myself, and it does the trick. Even the Great Danes and the Walker Coon Hound respect it. All of the dogs have hit it once or twice, given a little yelp and stayed in the area designated for them afterward.

But Tiffany. I am beginning to wonder if her fear has caused intellectual development problems. Yesterday I took the two puppies we have indoors outside. Princes Selina Kyle rushed down the steps and charged Luna(tic), the Great Dane, as soon as I opened the door. She didn't let a little thing like not being half the size of the other dog's head give her pause. As soon as she began to be allowed in the yard, she owned the place. I am sure she never knew I watched carefully to make sure the other dogs didn't attack her until I was sure she was safe. Princess Tiffany on the other hand will cower on the top step and wait to be let back into the house unless she is carried out into the yard.

So, I did just that. I carried her out about 20 feet from the steps, and she was actually doing pretty good. Then Itty Bitty, one of the mutts, had to go an act like an idiot. In all honesty, I don't believe she's acting, but that's another story. Tiffany bolted for the shadows. She went up under the edge of the house and, consequently right up to the wire, which doesn't have a constant charge but rather runs on a pulse. I counted the seconds, expecting her to jump and cry when the electricity hit her. I wasn't sure what to do.  If I went toward her she might run through the wire under the house, and I really don't need her realizing that she can do that. I called her, softy and tenderly, but instead of coming to me she only leaned more into the fence. All I could do was watch and wait for the consequences of her actions to cause her to come back out. If she had run to me instead of away when Itty Bitty frightened her, I would have scooped her up and taken her back inside. She didn't understand that I had already disciplined the mutt and restrained her. Instead she ran for shelter to about  the worst place she could, and it would literally bite her in the butt in a second or two.

Nothing. Great, I thought. The fence isn't working. I walked back to the steps hoping she would follow or that if I left the area and the other dogs came with me that Tiffany would venture out away from the wire. When I looked back to see if she had moved from sitting under the edge of the house, lower back leaning into the fence and facing the rest of the yard, wrongly assuming out there is where the danger was, I saw her flinch. I waited and counted to see if maybe I was wrong. A few seconds later, she flinched again.

She didn't yelp. She didn't cry. Most of all, she didn't move. And every few seconds for almost a minute, the electric fence, that seemed to be working fine after all, would go off and she would flinch, otherwise remaining frozen in fear. I shook my head and walked back in the house. I didn't know what else to do. She didn't trust me, so I couldn't go to her and help her. I watched out the window as I told Leah, and a few seconds later Tiffany snuck into the yard and began to play a little.  A little while later I opened the door and she, Selina  and Prince Westley came back inside while the other dogs looked at me with those eyes that seemed to say that's not fair, we want equal rights to inside.

I don't know what to do about Tiffany. I am nicer to her than any of the animals we have. I try to be gentle in action, expression and word with her. I treat her like a spooked horse all the time, and it's exhausting. I began to wonder if she was even worth the effort. I really don't like that attitude and behavior in a dog, especially if there is no history of trauma or abuse. Then I realized that I'm just as bad as she is at times.

I wonder how much I frustrate the Father when I act like that? If I know that I'm not stupid, God does too, and yet, evidence would show otherwise. How often do I go through life as though the sky is falling and the whole earth is out to get me rather than is filled with His glory? How often do I sneak through my life, eyes down, back slumped, hoping the day won't turn predatory as I try to make my way across it? How often do I run when I am afraid, and worse yet, not only run, but run to the worst possible spot to hide? It would be one thing if I bolted for Daddy and His protection, but instead I go hide in the shadow where the light doesn't reach me well, stick my butt against an electric fence and freeze in fear. I spasm in pain and increasing terror every time the invisible beast bites me, and yet I act as if it is the voice of my Master, gently calling me to come to Him, that I should be afraid of.

On one hand, there is a difference between Tiffany and me. I have reason for my fears. I have had some trauma in my life, and when it comes to the aftermath of trauma, it really doesn't change things or help to know that I caused most of it myself. But on the other hand, in some ways I am as stupid as she is. I have never once run to the arms of Jesus and gotten beaten. Oh, have run to the arms of His followers and been nearly killed, but never has He hurt me. And those followers? Isn't He responsible for them? Yes, and a hefty price will be put on the pain they caused, just as will be put on my tab for the people I have hurt instead of showing the love and care of Jesus.

Softly and tenderly Jesus is calling, treating me with compassion and patience and loving care to help and soothe the wounded and broken and crazy thing I am, and far too often for far too many years I have snapped at His healing hands and run from His voice to lean against the biting beasts in the darkest places. Frozen in my fear of His followers, of losing myself, of being disappointed again, of of of of and of so many things that were, in truth, only the shadows of my shivering self and the empty echoes of my own screaming, I stayed in the very place that I should of been afraid to be, the places where the light didn't reach and where the boundaries I pushed myself against for reassurance had teeth that made my entire being spasm and twitch in pain.

I can imagine Jesus, with tears in His eyes and compassion in His heart, holding out His hand, pleading with me to come out from the places of pain and let Him scoop me into His arms and carry me to safety. I can imagine His voice telling me that it's the very things that I am using for security instead of Him that are hurting me. I imagine Him saying He will protect me from the Itty Bitty's, the others of His that hurt and scared me, if only I will run to Him and not them. If only I will stop looking to the strays for a solution or to the others He has made His own, as though they have become Him, and instead go to Him, the source, I will find the refuge, the comfort, the healing and the peace I seek.

Then I realized that, in this case at least, my ingination is grounded in experience and truth. So, as understanding and hope slip into my soul, I ease my butt from the wire. I stay low and scared, but I move out of the shadows into the light and pray. Lord, help me to listen to the truth behind the gentleness and compassion in Your voice. Help me to start being more faithful to come to You first when fear hits. Let me finish breaking the habit of running into the dark boundaries that have teeth that bring misery, destruction and death. Let me not look to the strays that stay forever in survival mode for solution and safety. Let me instead help them to find that they too belong with You and can have the same peace, refuge and restoration that You offer me. Most of all, let me never again confuse the fists and abusive shouts of the other broken ones that are Yours, and are also trying to make their way from their own biting boundaries to Your kingdom, with Your hands and voice. Amen



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