There is a dog who lives at the veterinarian’s house along the paved side of Rigsby Lane.
It is the home of the donkeys.
There are horses and cows and recently added, a Shetland pony, but it’s the donkeys that catch my attention…
unless the dog is out.
She is a pretty, grey, Australian shepherd.
For the first year I was here I think she wore a collar that electric shocked her as she reached the middle of her field.
She’d stand, barking fiercely at us, me and and my walking-mate Charlie.
Perhaps the batteries have run down or the electricity has been turned off or she’s just forgotten where her boundary-line is but she ran into the road and followed us the other afternoon.
Not wanting a fight I uttered words I’d heard brandished at Charlie…to no effect I might add…
“Go. Home!”
Immediately she turned heel and retraced her steps under the fence, across the field, under another fence and home.
I was impressed.
‘Wow,’ I thought, ‘I wonder how they got her to do that…?’
Just yesterday she came tearing across the field, dodging livestock, eyes fixed on Charlie, angling for a game or a wrangle, I didn’t know which, neither did my walking companion who huddled, ears back, against my legs.
When she was half way across the field, in my loudest voice I called,
“Go. Home!”
The words worked like a charm. She did an about turn, slunk back up the field and under the fence from whence she’d come.
Unexpectedly my eyes welled with tears. The sight of her ‘going home’ without a backward glance stirred something in my soul.
How I wish…I thought as the uninvited tears fell…
…how I wish that whenever I began to stray from home, if someone stood in front of me and uttered the command,
‘Go Home!’
I’d immediately turn and make my way back to my shelter and my stronghold (Psalm 91:2) without hesitation.
Obediently.
Somewhere in her training her master had the foresight to teach her the command, “Go Home!’, to keep her safe so she wouldn’t get lost or hurt or trampled underfoot.
Somewhere in my upbringing I too was taught to ‘Go Home!’ by following the Lord, listening to my inner voice, retreating to my rock where I was safe.
Much to my chagrin my lesson slowly unravelled over the years.
Until this beautiful, grey, Australian shepherd promptly heeded her master’s words spilling from my mouth,
and the unbidden tears cleared my eyes,
to the wisdom of dogs,
and returned me to the shelter of the Most High. (Psalm91:1)
Well hello there! My name is Vivienne McNeny.
I am an empty nester exploring life as a Boomer…you could say I'm happily Boomering along!
As a homeschooling Mum I have finally quit the job of role model and mentor to my four children. I do what I want to do, eat when I feel like it, enjoy life with my blue eyed cowboy and clean my house once a month or so whether it needs it or not!
In true English form I write about the emergence of my true identity now that I can no longer hide behind my children as their Mum.
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