Paula @ Gracefilled Moments They say that when you choose a Word of the Year, the universe—or rather, the Lord—gives you endless opportunities to practice it. This year, my word is SAVOR. I’ve been trying to slow down, to breathe in the quiet moments, and to truly appreciate the gifts right in front of me. And if I’m being completely honest, most of my daily lessons in what it means to savor life come wrapped in a tricolor coat, standing on four prissy little paws.
Meet Little Girl. She is my ten-year-old Beagle, a delightfully spoiled, amusing diva who has had my heart entirely captured since she was just a year and a half old.
To look at her, you might think she’s just a regular hound dog. But my best friend Kim’s husband will be the first to tell you that I have completely “ruined” her. You see, when we visit their house, he keeps a running tally of her “Beagle Points.” If she taps into her ancestral roots and actually tries to chase a backyard bunny, she earns a point. But more often than not, she’s completely oblivious to the wildlife. Or worse, she’ll start lifting her paws in this incredibly dramatic, prissy way because she simply refuses to get her feet wet in the damp grass. Just like that—point deducted! Little Girl doesn’t care; she prefers to be inside in the air conditioning anyway.
She is a princess through and through, and lately, she’s been running a masterful psychological operation regarding my bed. I recently bought a new mattress topper, which raised my bed by about four inches. Ever since, Little Girl stands by the bedside and pretends she can no longer jump up. Now, I know she can do it—I’ve literally caught her in the act! But she will stand there and pout with those big, soulful hound eyes until I come over and lift her royal highness up myself.
Kim kindly gave me a set of padded dog steps to solve the problem. Did Little Girl use them? Of course not. In a grand display of bribery, I actually lined the steps with pieces of cut-up hot dog, leading all the way onto the bed. It took some serious coaxing, but she trotted right up, ate the treats, and hasn’t touched the steps since. The mattress topper remains an insurmountable mountain, yet she can miraculously vault herself onto the living room couch with zero assistance. That’s where she keeps her true throne: her favorite dog bed, complete with her Minnie Mouse pillow and her soft little “wooby” blanket. I can’t help but smile and savor the sheer comedy of her stubbornness.
We have our routines, she and I. Once a month, we celebrate “Nugget Day.” Whether it’s chicken nuggets or popcorn chicken from Walmart, she becomes incredibly animated the second she spies that familiar McDonald’s bag. She knows exactly what’s inside. ⬇️⬇️😉😁
But for all her diva antics, she is also a giant baby. Bring her to the vet, and she trembles. Put her in the car—even though she’s been riding with me for over eight years—and she becomes a blubbering, dramatic mess. And don’t get me started on running errands without her. I’ve had to start taping cutesy little apology notes on my apartment door because, as my sweet neighbors so eloquently put it, “the choir is singing” the moment I walk out the line of sight.
Yet, in between the drama and the comedy, there is a deep, anchoring grace. Little Girl has doggy epilepsy. Every single night at bedtime, she has to take her medicine tucked inside a piece of hot dog. Sometimes she tries to be slick and spits the pill right out, requiring a round two. But once the medicine is down, she settles in. And when the apartment goes quiet, and I hear the steady, rhythmic sound of her snoring beside me, my heart swells. I close my eyes and savor that sound. To some, a snoring dog is a nuisance; to me, it is the sound of safety, comfort, and a heartbeat matching my own.
Don’t get me wrong—I love my adult daughters, despite the painful reality of our estrangement. And I deeply love my small, wonderful circle of friends. But Jesus knew exactly what my heart required all those years ago. Long before a doctor wrote the official certification letter naming her my emotional support animal for my anxiety, she was already doing the job.
We take care of each other. She quiets my mind when the world feels too loud, and I make sure her world is safe, air-conditioned, and full of soft blankets. She is a mommy’s Girl, and I love her to the moon and back.
Every night ends the exact same way. I lean over, tuck her in, and print a gentle “night-night” kiss right on the very top of her velvety head. In a world that keeps spinning faster and faster, I am determined to slow down and savor these days. The quirks, the pouting, the snoring, and the unconditional love—I wouldn’t trade a single bit of it.
I’m linking up this month with these AMAZING Blog Hop/Link-Up party hostesses!
Discover more from Grace Filled Moments
Subscribe to get the latest posts sent to your email.
Cute little pup, animals are a blessing…so much more virtuous IMO than most humans, who remain basically neanderthals with technology.