Some dogs are bred, raised, and trained for unique and specific jobs; you’ve got your hunting dogs, cow dogs, herding dogs, show dogs, guard dogs, and well, you get the gist of it- different dogs for different jobs. I’ve always loved to watch different breeds work or compete at what their best at. Seeing them thrive at doing what they were always meant to do. But my girl, Marty? I like to think she was born, wired, and handpicked by God just for me, and in my humble and biased opinion, she’s the best one for the job.
It’s been a running joke in our family that every time Michael and I have a baby that we bring home a puppy to go with it. And all jokes aside, that is technically what ended up happening every single time we brought one of our three boys home from the hospital. I’m sure there is some psychological term that details why I felt the need to do it that way, but I haven’t dived into that yet to figure it out, so I don’t have an answer for you. All I know is that in major season shifts in my life, I’ve had a four-legged friend to walk through it with me, and that’s exactly how Miss Marty came to be a part of our lives.
May of 2024 brought with it the very first tornado that my little family had ever been in. I wrote about it in the story of Rainbows and the Claremore Tornado, so I won’t go into it all here. But I can’t tell mine and Marty’s story without starting at the beginning, and that’s right where it starts. I was in a rough place, both physically and mentally, after the tornado. But with all of the emotions, pain, and weariness we were all experiencing, there was one desire that overshadowed it all: the need to love. Sounds a little crazy, right? But maybe you understand what I mean? We went through a traumatic experience. Not just me and my family, but my neighbors, my friends, the land, my community, my hometown. Everywhere you looked, you saw proof of the chaos and destruction left in the wake of that EF-3, and it made me desperate to see good. In the middle of the most chaotic season I had been in, I wanted to love, to care, to nourish, to hold. It’s actually pretty beautiful, isn’t it? I know I didn’t realize it at the time, but looking back now I can see it for what it was. It was the need to bring peace, love and calm to all of the pain and chaos. And isn’t that how we’re instructed to overcome evil? By doing good? (Romans 12:21). And trust me, there really was so much good that came from it all, and I shared about some of it in the story mentioned above, but this yearning to tangibly love something is the beginning of mine and Marty’s story.
Now, at that time, we already had two dogs sleeping on our couches. My Golden Retriever, Andy, and Hank the cowdog (who is shaped more like a roly poly than the athletic herding dog you might picture in your head). They’re both great dogs that I love dearly, but just track with me for a second, though, okay? I am the only female in our house. Three little boys, two male dogs, one husband, and a rooster wind chime hanging in the backyard tree. I LOVE all the boys in our house, and I even like hearing the sound of that rooster wind chime in the tree on a windy day, but…I started to feel desperate for another girl in the house. Cue, Marty. The tornado blew through our town on May 25th, and by June 7th, we were making the drive up to rural Southwest Missouri to pick up an eight-week-old Collie/Aussie pup whose picture I saw on Facebook. I emphatically told my husband that she was “the one,” and that I just had to have her. I included tears to make it legit! Thankfully, I have a husband who not only truly loves me, but also understands these random seasons I go through. We made a fun road trip out of it, and by nightfall, Marty had a new zip code in Oklahoma.
I’ve always liked to sit and ponder on God’s kindness in giving us such special companions in dogs, and Marty is a constant reminder to me of that. Sometimes you take a chance and let your heart do the leading, and it leads you right to what you needed. In this case, it led me straight to a puppy from an accidental litter tucked away in the farm fields of Missouri. It just seems like more often than not, those pups end up being the best of the best. That’s what I found in Marty. When I just needed to tangibly hold something in my arms that actually wanted me to (unlike squirmy boys that have Tonka trucks they’d rather play with), she just let me hold, pet, and love on her. That little floppy-eared gal quickly found a very special place in all of our hearts- but especially in mine. She loves her tennis balls, running as fast as the wind, tagging along for car rides, and she really loves pestering Hank and Andy! But most of all, she loves me. What a precious gift that is. You know, I named Marty after a character from one of my favorite books, When Love Comes Softly, but I didn’t realize at the time that the name actually meant “strength, courage, and resilience.” What better way to inhabit those exact traits than by choosing to do good, to love- especially in the middle of pain, hurt, and chaos. I think of that every time Marty sits at my feet and nuzzles her cold black nose into my hand, and then I’m reminded that it’s how our own story began.
Dogs are such a special gift. So, whether you’ve got a working dog, hunting dog, or just a plain ol’ couch potato dog to love…give them an extra pat on the head today and tell them it’s from me and Marty.
Until next time friends,
