This morning I looked out at the beautiful day and saw a mini dachshund in my back yard. I'm a dog lover who instantly fell head over heels for her. I have dutifully notified our neighborhood's active fb page, but hope no one has claimed her yet. She fits in nicely with our other two dogs and a cat. Did I mention we live in fairly small quarters with all our animals and two boys? The only possible entry into the yard was a small crawl space under our gate. After all, there was an ad for a dog of this description for free in our local paper. Maybe she found me. I'm thinking through a list of possible names, but am holding off finalizing a choice until I know that she is up for adoption. If she were my dog and lost, I would be heartbroken. She has a beautiful face with eyes that melt you and silky, honey colored long hair. I would like to think she was lost, but now she's found.
The names I'm mulling over are Belle, Jolie, Honey. How about Martha, after George Washington's heart-tug to home: a fitting name for the 4th. Sitting on the porch of Mt. Vernon refreshed by the cool breezes of the Potomac, I thought of George Washington sitting there probably stroking a hound's head. He was a dog lover and thought there was nothing better than being home with Martha, a dog, and possibly a true friend or two.
We all have an innate desire for home. Finding a place of their own drove much of the westward expansion of our country across the continent. Even a simple log cabin became the picture of dreams that people from Abe Lincoln to Fannie Mae using it for political fodder for generations promising Americans a home as almost a right in our pursuit of happiness: ten percent of the United States was given away in the Homestead Act and soldiers of the Revolutionary War were often offered land as partial payment for their service since money was scarce, no matter if it was Indian territory. We crave our own place to roost. "Dwell," "Abode," "Abide" are all beautiful word pictures in Scripture. It is interesting that Jesus who could not find a place to lay His head, assured his disciples, his fellow wanderers, that He was preparing a place for them. A permanent place, a home.
P.S. Her name is Carmel and she is our next door neighbors new pet along with her twin sister. Ahh, at least I had a nice day with her.