Dog Days: Forty Days of Important Comments, Observations, and Lessons from the Spaniel

By John Baudhuin

Dog Days is a series of dog stories, vignettes told to or observed by the author over many years. Comments and spiritual truths are provided by The Spaniel, a most unusual dog who was given a prophetic gift during the third year of President George w. Bush, then also a spaniel owner. This book serves as a useful way of looking at everyday events, and some parents have used it for bed time stories with their children.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: May 8, 2007
• ISBN: 9781462839254

John Baudhuin

John B. Reynolds was born in Wisconsin and is one of four brothers. He has worked in the field of counseling and pastoral care most of his life. He has two children and three grandchildren, all of whom are dog lovers and God lovers. He lives with his wife, Ruth Mary in South Florida where they share a home with another spaniel, Mr. Darcy. John is a state pastor with Covenant Centre International in Palm Beach Gardens, Florida.

Book preview

Day One

Ginger’s Dilemma

We live now in a classical South Florida setting: a gated community of patio homes and single family homes with live oaks, lakes, and a dog at almost every other home. Typical to this region, the vegetation grows inches per day in the summer, but the creatures have all seemed to slow down.

Our Shih Tzu, Christie, went to be with St. Francis just weeks before we moved to the gated community; The Spaniel was just over a year old. So he came here not only as The Spaniel, but also as THE dog. I took to walking him daily to a lovely wooded area consisting of century-old live oaks. Just a few houses down, I noticed one morning that an older couple (older in Florida is defined as at least more decrepit than me) had let their ancient Golden Retriever out without a leash, a huge condo-commando violation. The ancient one, reddish brown overall and graying at the muzzle and along her back and feet, lumbered slowly down the driveway, not even noticing me or The Spaniel. She stooped in the middle of the driveway and picked up today’s newspaper in her jaws. Her cargo secured firmly in her old teeth, she lumbered back up the driveway to a partially opened door and went in. I could here a muffled voice saying: Good dog.

They called her Ginger.

I tried the newspaper retrieve with The Spaniel. Instead of getting the paper, he took off like a shot to accost a neighbor lady and scare half of her remaining years off of her. I never tried it again.

One day we had a huge crisis. No paper. NOBODY got a paper! The usually isolative neighbors were a-buzz, standing in the driveways in housecoats, bathrobes, and even less fashionable forms of attire. I could hear several of them muttering that they were going to make some phone calls about this.

Suitably curious, I put The Spaniel on his leash and walked him down our street to investigate. Lo and behold, there came Ginger lumbering down her sidewalk. She paced slowly back and forth over her driveway and even stooped to look under the van parked there. No paper. She circled a time or to more and then walked back to her master’s door VERY slowly. I heard no cry of Good Dog! from inside.

Dozens of phone calls must have gone out from our condo commandos to the newspaper office. The paper came. I happened to be out with The Spaniel once again just after the belated delivery of the Palm Beach Post. We observed Ginger heading down her driveway once more to complete her assignment. The paper had finally arrived, but it was an unusually large and heavy edition. The plastic sleeve it was in bulged with the weight of sale flyers from dozens of retailers. Ginger tried to get her jaws around it and simply couldn’t. She pushed the paper all over the driveway, but she could gain no purchase. She simply stared at the paper, now totally perplexed. She was about to fail her one and only job the SECOND time today!

Then I heard a little humming noise. Her master came down the sidewalk in his electric powered wheel chair. (This explained to me why Ginger had the job of getting the paper.) Noting Ginger’s dilemma, he reached low from his chair and was able to snag the paper. He then placed it in Ginger’s mouth and secured it. She followed him back into their house with the paper firmly held in her straining jaws. Mission accomplished.

The Spaniel had seen this entire drama. He hinted at nothing for almost the remainder of that day. Then, late in the evening as we strolled together under streetlamps and live oaks, he paused in front of Ginger’s house for just a moment and revealed the full meaning of what we had seen.

-   We all want to please the Master by doing what He tells us.

-   If we fail to please the Master, He will give us another chance.

-   If we still can’t please the Master, He will help us carry out the assignment.

-   The Master will always do everything He can to assure our success.

As all that was soaking in, I reminded The Spaniel of a verse from the Bible, Jeremiah 1:9: Behold, I have put My words in your mouth. This is what the kind gent had done by putting the paper in the dog’s mouth. We made our way back up the walk and home. As The Spaniel settled in to sleep that night, I could sense his smile. I think he knew that I would probably try to teach him to get our paper and that I would soon give up. The Spaniel is more into wisdom than chores.

Day Two

The Fence

Our little patio home has a modest backyard of about forty by fifty feet from our screened lanai and pool area to the back wall. In this little yard we have a grapefruit tree which bears an awesome harvest, a cursed orange tree which bears nothing, some other nameless tree, the obligatory live oak, a couple of nameless palms, and a few shrubs. The yard is fenced in with a white aluminum fence; the vertical slats are five and seven eighths of an inch apart. Such slats should be narrow enough to keep The Spaniel in as he is five and thirteen sixteenths inches wide at the shoulders.

The fence could not contain The Spaniel. First of all, there is one spot by the back wall that is about seven inches wide. Our second day here, he walked through the space as if it were a door. I lured him back with part of a Big Mac. We thought if we could just keep him away from that spot, he’d be secure.

A few weeks after moving in, I let The Spaniel wander in the yard again. I made efforts to keep him from that one wide spot. This time he went through on the other side of the fence, wriggling through it like an older woman trying to get out of a girdle. (Forgive the simile; it was the best The Spaniel could give me on such short notice.) So he was in the neighbor’s yard, tearing around and smelling every blade of grass. I went inside and got a piece of his favorite beef jerky. I called him to come, to which he made no response. I then called in the little bit of Italian I know: Balthazario, andiamo! This in combination with the snack got his attention, but, try as he could, he couldn’t seem to wriggle his way back in to our yard. I finally reached through and grabbed his collar and dragged him back.

As I somewhat angrily dragged him back into the house, I could sense that he felt remorse over these shenanigans. He walked back to the sliding glass doors which led to the outside, took one more look, and turned to me, as if to say all that needed to be said. He suggested the following applications:

-   People often go off the beaten path without even realizing it.

-   Sometimes even the sound of the Master’s voice isn’t enough to get us back.

   It’s much easier to get out of the right place than to escape from the wrong place.

-   Sometimes the Master has to go to the edge, reach in, and pull us