Happy Fathers Day—Late

The previous week I was not struck by any particular topic to muse on and Fathers Day just sort of “happened” line any other day. I will admit to having a Pity Patty Party at intervals throughout the weekend as my sons no longer have a father (nor I a husband) and my father died in 1999. But many of my friends are in the same situation as my sons and I are, so I am celebrating the great fathers we had—despite the fact that I missed the correct day.  

 Three fathers in one picture (October 1982)—L to R my brother and his family, my dad and mom at their 40^th anniversary celebration and my family—Dean and the boys

I watched a documentary on Haper Lee recently. In To Kill a Mockingbird, she painted a picture of a great father, a man of integrity and kindness. This character was actually based on her father—what a great tribute, because her book, and the movie by the same name, are classics which will probably endure for many more years in the future.

Seems like the phrase, father knows best, needs to be put in here somewhere. The TV show, Father Knows Best, is another classic and aired from 1954-1963 Unfortunately, our culture has evolved through a time of picturing that father doesn’t know best. And sometimes there is no father figure in a home to know, or not know, best. But when father is accorded the respect that God gave him as head of the home, the phrase rings true because he is depending on the Father Who always knows best.

So that brings us to the One Who began it all—our heavenly Father. In at least one place in the Gospels, when Jesus is praying, He speaks to God as Abba Father. In our vernacular He was calling out to Daddy. Now that is not so surprising to think of Jesus talking with His Father in that fashion. But in Paul’s letter to the Romans in chapter 8 he explains that we who are believers in Christ have been adopted into God’s family and now we, also, have the right and privilege to call on Him as Abba Father--Daddy.   I guess that should make every day a Happy Children’s DayJ

All Creatures Great and Small

...the Lord God made them all. And when He made our little dog, Linus, He did very well. You can see by this first picture how Linus got his name. 

He didn’t exactly drag a blanket around but he did love to drag around the towel I brought him home in. So thanks to the Charley Brown comic strip we found the perfect name for our newest family member.

Once Linus learned how to traverse the steps at our house, he was able to use the doggie door in the basement. His legs were so short Dean had to build a step up and a ramp down but he soon became a pro at exiting into the back yard. In fact, I think he probably visualized it as part of the house, but definitely part of his personal space. Once the dog door was in use, we began missing items around the house ranging from a house slipper and gloves to my reading glasses. He had a favorite area just off the back pouch where he liked to park his “treasures.”

Linus was not averse to running away in order to check out the neighborhood. One day this penchant backfired because he “lost” his neighborhood! After 2-3 hours of searching, a friendly UPS truck driver we had alerted earlier, stopped by and said he had seen a little white dog around the Monte Carlo Apartments (five blocks away  and another totally separate neighborhood). The lost was found—not sure who was more relieved--Linus or Dean and me.

As he got older, the adventuring decreased and Linus was more willing to stay close by “his people” although he loved to “go.” As soon as his crate came out in preparation for a trip, he was in it like a flash—he wasn’t going to be left behind!   

 The high point of any day would be for him to go with Dean to any place having a drive-up window so he could sit up and beg for a treat—many thanks, especially to the folks at Sierra JavaJ We never did time him but Linus had incredible balance on his hind legs. Maybe his tail helped      

 Spreaking of his tail—it was a definite barometer to the way he was feeling at any particular moment. Up and wagging meant “I’m happy” or “Come get my squeaker.” Tail dragging the ground meant "I’m tired or sick or scared" (he hated thunder and fire crackers).    

A week ago our sweet Linus breathed his last—just laid down on the rug after Brian brought him in from his morning potty time. Despite a visit to the vet the week before, he slowly stopped eating and Friday morning his brave little heart just stopped beating.

We were blessed for almost 13 years with a sweet little dog who loved us unconditionally. Most likely there will always be a Linus-sized hole in our hearts but the memories of having played and snuggled with him during those year are worth the pain of his absence.

More favorite pictures of "Mister Boy":