By Les Ferguson, Jr.

Columnist

 

My family moved from Manassas, VA, to Lubbock, TX, in the summer after my third-grade year in school. That’s a story deserving of its own column, but not today.  

We got our first family dog sometime before that. She was part toy poodle and part beagle. If you remember the dog from Petticoat Junction and the original Benji, that’s what she looked like. 

We called her Muffin or Muffy Baby. She answered to both. If my memory serves me correctly, I was in college when she crossed the rainbow bridge. 

The next dog I remember was one my dad rescued from somewhere. He was a puppy, and that is what we called him while we argued among ourselves for a name. That poor dog died years later, and we were still calling him Puppy. 

Then there was Princess, a golden retriever, given to me by my then girlfriend, now wife. 

Sometime after we broke up, which could be another column someday, I would take Princess for rides in my Camaro. That always got attention from girls, which was a source of irritation for my ex. And, of course, I would never play that up or use it to create regret. Really.

If you believe that, see me about a bridge I’d like to sell you. Smile! 

In time, there was Sergeant Pepper, our collie my kids grew up with. Then Bullet, the border collie, no privacy or electronic fence could stop. And then Sugar, the little dog we got for my son, Cole. Sugar out-survived Cole, and losing her last year was more challenging than I expected. 

These days, we are dog rich with Daisy, the golden retriever, Bullie and Rebel, the chocolate labs, and Elliot, the mutt we rescued in winter storm Elliot a couple of years ago. 

Someone dumped this poor little puppy out in Paris on the coldest day we’ve experienced in a long time — and as I like to say about our political parties, a pox on both their houses. 

So why this long dog history? What’s the value in a column like this? It could be about rescuing an animal or caring for our world. That would be a fine place to stop. 

But as I think about all the joys these dogs have brought to our lives—I recognize the unconditional love they have given and still give, and it reminds me anew of the beauty of this world God has blessed us with. 

I hope you know the joy of a good dog. But whether you have a dog or not, consider all the blessings you enjoy from spouses and children, friends and co-workers. Learn to see the positive and embrace the joys you’ve been given.

As Louis Armstrong once sang, “I see trees of green. Red roses, too. I see them bloom for me and you, and I think to myself, what a wonderful world!”

“Let everything that breathes praise the Lord. Hallelujah!” (Psalms‬ 150‬:6‬ CSB‬‬)