Dirty dog. It was fun at the time... |
Wet dog smell. Can't say it's my favorite. I much prefer the smell of baking bread,or lemon tree blossoms. However, when Smokey (21 pounds of cuteness wrapped up in the sweetest little miniature schnauzer suit you have ever seen) acts like a dog, he smells like a dog. I, on the other hand, am human and prefer the afore mentioned fragrances over his canine preferences.
It's a routine we go through. He finds the most vile smell in the yard and wallows in it, seemingly to his utter delight. It feels good and smells good; so to imbed it in every pore of his doggie body seems the delicious doggie option to him. When I get a whiff of him and call attention to the odor problem I suggest the "b" word. He never seems to agree with my choice of smells or remedy to the smell. That's when the cowering begins. My husband picks him up to bring him to the laundry tub (dog bath) and declares that Smokey somehow can double his weight at will, although he might might have invented some sort of gravitational field that he can activate at will. Regardless, he is reluctantly (very reluctantly) compliant.
This is so embarrassing. |
Brush those teeth. |
In my Father's world, I am loved even more than we love Smokey. The problem is that like Smokey, I am dirty. I am human and guilty of human things (sin) and My Father is perfectly sinless. His house will not be tarnished with my sin dirt. In spite of my filthy and stinky condition, He loved me enough to provide a means by which I can be a pleasing aroma to Him and come into His presence. After all, He is preparing a place for me. When Smokey is clean, he is allowed to join me on the couch. How I look forward to joining my Father in my place, at His place.
Father, How I thank you for providing a remedy for the stench of my sins. My desire is to ever be a pleasing aroma in Your sight.
Interested in more stories of faith?
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