Editor's Column
by Alyssa Brown
He ate 15 pairs of shoes, two swimming pool covers and some siding off the house. Dad said the fence looked as if we kept a beaver in the back yard.
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Incorrigible Dog Teaches Enduring Love
"But, Danae, this puppy isn't as smart as the others." Picking up the puppy he favored, my dad put Danae's favorite on the ground. The puppy romped back to its litter mates, not yet master of his oversize paws. Dad pulled her attention from the little Border Collie she already thought of as hers to its brother. Dad held it in front of her.
"See this puppy, Danae? This one's smarter and cuter. He'll be a good dog when he grows up, just like his dad. Don't you want him?"
Danae looked at the puppy only briefly. A white stripe ran perfectly down the center of his face ending at his black nose. His perfectly white ruff matched his perfectly white paws.
The little stump of a tail the farmer had left wagged enthusiastically as my dad held him up for Danae to see.
The difference in intelligence between this dog and the one Danae had chosen was obvious to my dad, and I thought the puppy he liked was much cuter than the one she had chosen. But she could not be dissuaded.
"It's my money, Daddy, and I want that one."
"Are you sure?" my dad said.
She nodded her blond head.
Danae proudly held her puppy as my dad gave the farmer a check.
In the car on the way home, Dad tried one last time: "Are you sure this is the one you want? He's not as smart as the other one."
Danae's small voice replied with what would become her refrain, "But I love him anyway."
Patches, so christened because of the black and pink patches of skin on his belly, greeted the family with puppy-like enthusiasm, wagging his whole body as if to make up for the absence of his tail.
Mom allowed him in the house at first, but the frequency of "accidents" and his apparent immunity to house training soon relegated him to the back yard with Prince, our Shelty.
Less than a week later, Danae was playing with Patches in the back yard when Dad came out of the garage carrying the mangled remains of a sand toy.
"Danae, look what your dog did," he said. Showing Patches the sand toy, she dutifully spanked him, and they went back to playing.
Despite his ardent devotion to Danae, he seemed unable to keep his teeth off his surroundings. Over the next several months, Patches proved incorrigible. He ate 15 pairs of shoes, two swimming pool covers and some siding off the house. Dad said the fence looked as if we kept a beaver in the back yard.
Patches learned to "lie down" quickly, but his response to other commands came slowly or not at all.
Dad called him "noodle" in front of Danae because of the way the dog wagged his body and less complimentary names when she wasn't around. When Dad pointed out Patches' intractability to Danae, she said, "I love him anyway." When her dog ate Dad's favorite shoes, she said, "I love him anyway."
When Patches dug up and ate the irrigation hoses Dad had spent days carefully burying and he was ready to take Patches to the pound, Danae slipped her arms around the dog's neck and with tears in her blue eyes said, "Please, Daddy. I know he's a bad dog, but I love him anyway."
Living with Patches has given Danae and me a greater understanding of God's unconditional love. No matter how recalcitrant Patches was or how much of her allowance went to replace something he had ruined, Danae has remained steadfast in her love for her dog. She might be sad or upset by what he does, but she never wants to get rid of him, and she certainly hasn't stopped loving him.
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