Clean Conscience

Letting the Plug Out

I will never get used to how totally Zinnia can seem to let all the tension out of her body and sleep so soundly.

Yes, she can come to full alert in a second, especially if she hears me putting friskies into her bowl, which she can hear even when she’s outside and I’m in the kitchen.

Still, just look at that sleeping body. You know she’s not fretting about whether the water filter needs replacing, or that tree limb better be clipped before it falls on the roof.

It’s as if she’s let out the plug on whatever may have demanded her attention, and let it drain like water out of the tub.

I’ve joked that people who sleep soundly must have a clear conscience. Does Zinnia have a conscience?

If you don’t have a dog (or a dog doesn’t have you), it may seem odd that Zinnia can have such a hold on my imagination. Hard to explain to myself. The license plate holder that says, “Become the person your dog already thinks you are,” makes a pretty good stab at it. Assuming you feed her, pay her at least minimal attention, don’t mistreat her, she will greet you every time you come through the door as if you are the highlight of her day. Life?

And in that moment you may be. Which you know is more than you have earned. Or deserve.

That’s the point. We talk about unconditional love, but it’s an oxymoron among humans. None of us is capable of loving without some parameters to what we will put up with. Maybe it’s a survival thing, not trusting absolutely.

But inasmuch as we’re aware of our failures and shortcomings, we’re grateful for those who still seem to value us.

It’s the kind of love we attribute to God. Not many of us find it possible to believe even God can love us at our worst. To trust that can be true, is what we mean by faith.

Not for nothing does dog spell God backward.