Dogs are referred to as “man’s best friend.” They love their masters unconditionally, no matter how the master behaves. Even if the master has flaws, a dog will still show love and devotion. They are forgiving, compassionate, and attentive, and what do they ask in return? To be loved—simply, honestly, all a dog wants is to be loved. So what do dogs have to do with God? More than you might think! In Walking with Dog, Labrador enthusiast and dog lover Tom Vint provides an enlightening view of our loving housemates. He asks the question: What if God built human relationships with dogs as mirrors of God’s relationship with His people? After all, God loves us unconditionally. God is willing to forgive our flaws. God is always attentive, and He only asks for our love in return. As Christians, we were all puppies once. We all had need of training and guidance in the ways of our Master. We were never perfect; we will never be perfect. Yet God gives us loving discipline to keep us on the right path, just as we do with our furry friends. There are heartwarming correlations between God and dogs, and Christian dog owners will relate. Dogs may be man’s best friends, but we are God’s best friends, and He is waiting to open His arms and love us.

Walking with Dog

What Man's Best Friend Can Teach Us about GodBy Tom Vint

iUniverse, Inc.

Copyright © 2011 Tom Vint
All right reserved.
ISBN: 978-1-4502-9077-7

Contents

Preface.....................................................viiChapter One: In the Beginning...............................1Chapter Two: Just Walking with You..........................9Chapter Three: Walking to Know You More.....................21Chapter Four: Walking with Angels...........................31Chapter Five: Walking in Joy................................41Chapter Six: Walking the Talk...............................47Chapter Seven: The Consistent Walk..........................59Chapter Eight: Walking in Rebellion.........................65Chapter Nine: Walking in Respect............................71Chapter Ten: Walking in Love................................77Chapter Eleven: When the Walk is Over.......................83

Chapter One

In The Beginning

Where does a great story begin? We all have stories to tell. I have become a believer that God puts us in different places in this world to live a story, figure out how He became involved in it all, and finally to share all that with others. It is called our living witness. It is our life. We all have such a story—some of us just take a lot longer to figure it out. Some of us take longer still to get to the point where we can begin to share it with others.

During the 1970s, I was an outdoor writer for the Lincoln, Nebraska, newspapers. Not long out of college and just finished with a two-year stint in the military, my young wife and I settled into our new life just a few hours from our native home in central Iowa.

As an outdoor writer, I had opportunities to interview and spend time with a number of people in the outdoor-recreation world. Outdoor writers write about the great outdoors—hunting, fishing, camping, and the like. It is a pretty nice job most of the time. My job basically allowed me to do things most people have to take vacations to enjoy. I was paid for it. Despite the facts that I was always looking for a story and generally carrying around bulky cameras for illustrations, it was a lot of fun to write about people enjoying the out-of-doors. I made a lot of friends over those years.

Of particular fascination to me were the field-trial-dog trainers and what they could do with their dogs. It amazed me how those retrieving dogs could be directed by a whistle and hand signals from what seemed to be hundreds of yards away. It was delightful to watch the dogs work the air with their gifted noses to help guide them to a targeted bird. It impressed me greatly how the dogs did all this with joy in bringing the prize back to their masters. The dogs' tails were up and wagging with their delight in doing just what they were born to do. I enjoyed writing those stories about men and women and their dogs. I dreamed of the day when I could have a dog of my own, a dog like those.

When my wife and I moved to Lincoln, we lived in a small two-bedroom duplex owned by a wonderful couple who took pity on us. They could relate to our just coming out of the military with no money in our pockets. They had done the same thing themselves a few years earlier. They also apparently thought we'd be good neighbors, which was important since they lived in the other side of their tandem home. They were delightful people with two young daughters. One of their rules was no pets, but that didn't bother us because we didn't have one–at least not yet.

Several months into the new job, I went to lunch with a friend and a couple of sales representatives for a number of outdoor sporting goods products. During our conversations on a number of subjects, one of those gentlemen, Don Bader, mentioned something about field trialing his Labrador retrievers. He had been raising Labs and apparently had some very good ones. Several had earned field-champion status for winning field trials. It was a measuring stick for top-quality dogs. Good bloodlines are very valuable.

It caught my interest and drew us into a lengthy conversation on the rewards of well-bred dogs, training techniques, abilities of the dogs to do so many things, and just about everything else related to dogs. In my writings, I had witnessed the attributes of many gundog breeds. I compared all the things I desired in a dog—versatility in the ability to hunt many types of birds and in various conditions. I also wanted a dog that would be great for the family my wife and I had not yet started. I came to the conclusion that a Labrador retriever would best fit all the things I wanted in a good dog when I was ready to get one.

It is a marvelous breed—smart, eager to please, trainable, versatile, and a wonderful family and service dog. Labs seem to have it all. I had read up on many breeds I thought would fit the versatility I desired. I found many breeds that have great characteristics, and I certainly don't want to diminish the joy any of them can bring an owner, but a Lab, I decided, was the one I wanted.

During my conversation with Don, I mentioned something about how I would love to try training such a dog someday. I had heard how much easier it was to train a dog when it came from good bloodlines. My new friend confirmed that paying for better breeding provides dividends in easier training. He noted that field-trial dogs, much like seeing-eye dogs, are bred for desired traits such as temperament, scenting ability, trainability, speed, size, and so on. Yes, the Labrador is a great breed. Okay, now I really wanted one.

Don said one of his dogs was about to have a litter of pups and asked if I would like one.

I was momentarily speechless. The thought of owning such an animal was a great temptation. When I regained my composure, however, I tried to explain that it would be wonderful, but it was not in our family budget to feed a pet, let alone buy a purebred dog with such good breeding.

Don said that wasn't a problem, but I continued to graciously decline. My wife and I were still trying to put enough money together to buy furniture for our home. In truth, it was embarrassing to tell Don just how poor we were. We really had come out of the military without any money. As much as I would have loved a dog, it wasn't the time. We couldn't afford one.

We left the restaurant and, other than an occasional daydream of such a dog, I didn't think much more about the conversation. A few months later, however, there came a call from the Lincoln Airport baggage department. I had a package to pick up, and it needed to be picked up soon. I had no idea what the clerk was talking about. We had not ordered anything from anybody. He said there was a little dog kennel there, and it had my name on it. It wasn't empty. We needed to pick up our package. When I asked where it came from, the clerk said, "St. Louis, from a Don Bader."

I called my wife and said we needed to run out to the airport. We had only one car, and she had it at her new job as a bank teller. We didn't know what to expect when we arrived to get the package, other than the obvious—the little dog kennel likely housed a little dog.

My wife was not a dog person. Her family had cats. She wasn't ready for a pet, and we had no clue about where it was going to stay. Remember the no-pet stipulation at the duplex?

When we arrived at the baggage claim, we were directed to the small kennel in the back. We bent down and opened the door of our package. There she...