It's not what you think.
Marty did not get put in *time out* for being a bad beagle. He is an adorable beagle…but he is a beagle.
Which means that he loves to smell, and he eats like a garbage disposer.
That accounts for the little *drama* that happened a couple of weeks ago.
Youngest son fell asleep one night, sound asleep – and evidently when the human's away, the beagle will play.
Marty found his way into a wastebasket and indulged himself in some used coffee grounds.
I'm sure he loved the taste of them, but they did not love him.
Son woke up to find Marty asleep next to…well, let's just say "recycled" coffee grounds and some dinner.
One quick call to the veterinary emergency room – and they were on their way.
***A piece of advice to all you dog owners out there: Coffee and coffee grounds are very dangerous for dogs. Just like chocolate. And ingesting them should be treated like an emergency situation.***
So, guess who got the call at 10:45 PM – and guess who woke up out of a dead sleep to pray for one precious granddog…
Fortunately, the vet said Marty should be OK – after another round of induced "recycling" – and a dose of charcoal to soak up any remnants.
My son said that Marty returned home with a black snout. And around 3 AM, he had another "recycling" episode, which he stepped in, and there were little charcoal Marty footprints all over the blankets on the couch.
Just like a toddler, huh?!
The next day, I called early in the morning to check on little Mr. Folger's. My son said he didn't think it was possible for a beagle to look disheveled – but that was the best word to describe Marty.
A bit dazed, and disheveled.
I'm not sure what Marty was thinking – though I know what he was smelling.
Mmm, good to the last drop.
Maybe he was pondering the idea of starting a Pawbuck's – and wanted to sample the wares. Or maybe he thought Canine Café au Lait sounded like a good idea at midnight. (Furry frappuccino, perhaps?)
Or maybe he wasn't thinking – he was just smelling. A dog impelled by instinct to do something potentially dangerous.
I'm wondering about the things that impel me to act in certain ways.
Like having to have the last word in arguments. Or putting someone down because I'm secretly envious of them. Or buying that something that I don't really need. Or fibbing just a little to save face.
This list could go on and on – but then I'd be way too embarrassed.
The plain fact of the matter is that I am often compelled by my sin nature to do certain things. And often, those things are not good for me. Downright dangerous sometimes.
"The trouble is with me, for I am all too human, a slave to sin. I don't really understand myself, for I want to do what is right, but I don't do it. Instead, I do what I hate. But if I know that what I am doing is wrong, this shows that I agree that the law is good. So I am not the one doing wrong; it is sin living in me that does it.
And I know that nothing good lives in me, that is, in my sinful nature. I want to do what is right, but I can't. I want to do what is good, but I don't. I don't want to do what is wrong, but I do it anyway. But if I do what I don't want to do, I am not really the one doing wrong; it is sin living in me that does it.
I have discovered this principle of life—that when I want to do what is right, I inevitably do what is wrong. I love God's law with all my heart. But there is another power within me that is at war with my mind. This power makes me a slave to the sin that is still within me. Oh, what a miserable person I am! Who will free me from this life that is dominated by sin and death?"
(from Romans 7)
I don't think I'm far off in saying that sin is my natural instinct – the thing that seems to impel me toward sinning.
I am attracted to the coffee grounds of life – even when they're not good for me – even when I know they're harmful. I just can't help myself…
What a horrible dilemma!
Is there no hope?
Of course not!
"Thank God! The answer is in Jesus Christ our Lord." (from Romans 7)
Yes, there is Someone who took me to the emergency room.
Someone who shed His blood so I could "recycle" all the bad stuff out – and then gave me a dose of Holy Spirit to deal with all the remnants.
Yeah, I might make some little black footprints here and there – but the threat has been taken care of.
The poison has been removed. My life is no longer in danger.
I have been surely rescued.
Now, if I could just learn to keep my snout out of the garbage!
Do you ever feel like a spiritual "split personality"?
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