Meet Minnie Ray

I have neglected to introduce you to our newest family member. Poor baby didn’t know she would—by no fault of her own—trigger her new mother’s mental and emotional collapse a day after coming home for the first time.

She will probably go on Oprah as an adult and divulge her puppyhood trauma. Note to self: Don’t buy a dog when you have recently been laid off and your entire world is changing.

But she has been a trouper through it all. She couldn’t be more different than Fiona, but is an often humorous reminder that it takes all kinds to keep the world spinning.

When Justin and I are old and subsequently start to look like our dogs (I’ve heard it happens), I will be Minnie.

Fiona is lean; muscular; an Olympic sprinter. She is slow to anger and rarely barks. Minnie has the same movement patterns as a computer mouse, making wobbling circles that inefficiently hurt her long distance numbers. She is the only dog I have ever seen that eats out of her food bowl while sitting down. Her little belly gets so bloated that she plops down like two kids ready to roll a ball back and forth between them.

I know you’re getting a beautiful mental image of me as a geriatric patient right now.

But really, she is hilarious.

She barks when she isn’t getting her way; she pesters Fiona into playing with her and then immediately flips over to her back in submission mode. It’s like me—I’m usually up for a fight until one is started and I figuratively flop with a “Just kidding. Don’t hurt me.”

The other day, Fiona was racing at lightning speed around the deck, triple-lapping Minnie. Minnie watched closely, eyeing Fiona like she was a double-dutch jump rope she was about to face. Fiona rounded the corner for the millionth time and Minnie—in one brave attempt—darted about three feet and tumbled over, her belly basking in the sunshine.

Oh, I laughed.

What a glorious way to remember God’s love for us.

I can’t tell you how many times I have landed belly-up in my life; how many times I have felt like people were triple-lapping me personally, professionally, and spiritually; how many times I have felt like I was wobbling through life awkwardly without reaching my destination.

But I have a cheering section too; I have a God who is rooting for me just as hard as he is those pesky life marathon runners.

It’s hard to believe such catharsis has come from this little chubby fur ball. I look at her and remember to keep plugging.

At least until it’s time to eat.