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| Comet rests, peering over her successful defluffing |
Comet
is really getting settled into her new home. She knows where food is, where
toys are, where the 'barking window' is... at not quite 2 months, she's home.
But
Comet, as I have mentioned, comes with some baggage. Every rescue dog does;
Comet's history is unspeakably sad. (Her fosters worked with her to get her to
be the stunningly gorgeous and trusting beauty that Watson and I welcomed!)
One
of the ways that Comet's anxiety comes through is via stuffed toys. Anything
that *can* be destroyed, is destroyed. She limits this to dog toys (cushions,
shoes, etc. are all safe). But she seems to understand "chew toy" as
a directive rather than a noun.
I've
had numerous people indicate I should stop this behaviour: deny her the toys,
find other non-destructive toys, etc. And yes: if I was worried about the toys,
I could. I would!
But
here's the thing... chewing apart toys makes her happy. She frolics, she sings,
she wags her tail hard enough to knock down a wall. She's a good dog; living a
good life. If that means I clean up toy fluff every day, that's fine by me.
We
do this for our beloved pets: make concessions, overlook imperfect behaviour,
allow for antics that may not be our preference.
Imagine
if we treated people the same... accepting them for who they are, knowing that
their background may not be perfect. Welcoming them as they are, instead of
projecting our own expectations. Helping our siblings in Christ to celebrate
that they are free to live the good life today, no matter what happened in
their past. Extending encouragement and empowerment as an extension of trust
and inclusion.
It's
so easy with our pets... to give the benefit of the doubt, to show some extra
love, to overlook the defluffing - and to watch the confidence grow as her true self is loved.
Imagine
if the church did the same with everyone we encountered...
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