Biscuit bounced into the room with all the energy and joy of a puppy, despite being a two-year-old lab. She wagged her tail and happily buried her face in Jason’s lap.
Jason lovingly stroked her head. He loved Biscuit. And so far, Biscuit had seemed delighted with her new owner. Ever since he had rescued her from the pound, she had seemed to understand that Jason loved her and would care for her. He was so very different from her previous owner, who had treated her harshly.
One day, Jason couldn’t find Biscuit. It was so unlike her not to greet him the moment he walked in the door. What had happened?
He finally found her hiding underneath a bed. She hid her head in her paws when she saw him, trying to hide her eyes and make him disappear.
“What are you doing, Biscuit? It’s okay…you can come out.” It took quite a bit of coaxing before Biscuit finally came out from under the bed. Her whole frame trembled, as her head was hung in shame. Tail drooping in between her legs, she led Jason into the other room. As Jason surveyed the broken china and glass all over the floor, he suddenly understood. Biscuit had obviously broken the lamp and then hid herself under the bed, afraid her master would no longer love her.
Jason reached out his hands gently and stroked Biscuit. “It’s okay, girl. I still love you. Nothing you do will make me stop. You may have consequences for what you do,”—Jason added this as he noticed a small cut on her foot caused by some of the broken glass—“but I’m still going to care for you.”
It took several days of Jason repeating these words and still lovingly caring for Biscuit before the happy wag came back to her tail. Once again, she was at peace in her master’s care.
Biscuit was still adjusting to her role as mother. She took the responsibility of caring for her four puppies very seriously. In fact, she hadn’t seemed to realize yet that Jason would care for them just as he had for her. Once they finished nursing, she seemed convinced it was still her job to provide food for them. She even tried her hand at hunting—which proved a comical, although utter, failure.
Jason faithfully put out food for each puppy as well as the mother. Each time he did, though, Biscuit seemed incredibly surprised and relieved. It took months before she finally realized she didn’t have to worry—her master would take care of her puppies as well as her. The happy wag returned again to her tail. She was at peace in her master’s care.
At one point in time, Biscuit ended up with a broken leg. Jason, as usual, took good care of her. He got the leg set and casted (even though Biscuit hated the veterinarian working on her) and gave her medicine to ease the pain. He even carried up the stairs when her leg was too sore to make the trip.
But as the days went on, Biscuit began to show signs of depression. She wouldn’t eat well, and she didn’t seem interested in anything.
Jason kept trying to interest her in all the things she still could do—sitting on his lap, chewing a bone, etc., but Biscuit remained uninterested. All she wanted to do was run and play outside—and since she couldn’t do it, she seemed determined to be miserable.
“What’s wrong with your dog?” Jason’s friend Mike asked one afternoon when Biscuit shrank back from his attempts to interest her in a toy. “She used to love that toy.”
Jason nodded. “I know. She’s been this way ever since her injury. She doesn’t seem to believe that I’m still here caring for her.”
“Too bad,” Mike remarked. “She was always such a happy one. What are you going to do?”
“Do? Why, keep loving and caring for her, of course. Maybe one day she’ll realize she can rest in my care, no matter what’s happening or how she feels.”
“Return unto thy rest, O my soul; for the LORD hath dealt bountifully with thee.” Psalm 116:7