Waldo quietly prays for food like I sometimes beg for scraps from heaven.
I have a miniature schnauzer named Waldo. I don’t know when it happened, because I remember actively planning that it wouldn’t when we got him, but he’s figured out that people food is much better than dog food. So every time somebody is in the kitchen, he sits patiently on a rug that lays on the floor in front of the sink and waits for something to fall to the floor.
This, of course, is not uncommon behavior in an inside dog and a beloved pet. I used to find it annoying, but now I think it’s awesome. I’ve taken to calling the little rug he sits on his “prayer rug”. The way he looks to me while I’m making a sandwich is probably not unlike how I look to the Almighty… here’s Todd, begging for favors, hoping for boons, expecting something good to happen despite the possibility it won’t, waiting as patiently as possible for God to do something. I pray for stuff all the time, mostly understanding and endurance and safety for my family, but I’m not above praying for specifics like a new ukulele or that I find another bottle of mustard in the cabinet when the one in the fridge is empty. And my prayers are always answered, sometimes quickly, sometimes slowly, but always answered.
One of my favorite authors, Anne Lamott, sometimes tweets about her dogs, and when she comes home from a book tour or something, she says her dogs act like “it’s Easter around here,” because her cat tells her dogs she’s dead when she’s out of the house. My dog is like that too. If he hasn’t seen us in a couple of hours, we may as well be dead, and then when we show up again, it’s just like doggie Easter, a miracle happened and he is beside himself with joy.
In the kitchen, he’s patient on his prayer rug, until his prayer is answered. His faith is always rewarded. Usually with a potato chip or two. And there is joy.
Photo credit: Todd Maudlin, used with permission