Soapbox

21 Days with Jesus

"Please come to Jesus"
he said. "Come to poetry"
I replied. Checkmate.

     Where did Tucker go and what did he have in his mouth?
     This is a pretty routine question around my house. Glancing up from the computer, the sewing machine or anything else that held my attention for long enough for Tucker to get into mischief, I see a tan blur dance by with something suspicious in his mouth. He likes to carry his toys all the time, but the dear dog has a particular attitude, a distinctive prance of step and bounce of ears that almost screams "Wheeeee!" when he's gotten hold of something he knows he's not supposed to have. My shout of "Hey!" or "Drop that!" only makes his joy nearly palpable.
    In these days of lovely spring weather, I often leave the back door open so the dogs can come and go, and Tucker, purloined goods in mouth, goes- out into the yard where the air is heavy with the scent of lilacs, falling  crabapple blossoms and bird songs.

   So I run out onto the deck and call his name and he turns toward me, revealing today's prize: a sock or panties from the laundry basket, one of my favorite Tiva sandals, an LL Bean catalog. Today as he ran by I could see he had a booklet in his teeth, and knew he had been poking around inside my guitar case.
   "Tucker! Give back Jesus!" I called sternly, and then laughed when I heard myself.

    One night, while sitting outside tuning my guitar before a coffeehouse performance, a man approached me and said hello. After chatting about poetry for a few minutes offered me a booklet: "21 Days with Jesus".
    "You should think about your personal relationship with Christ" he said.
    "Wow. Cool. You should think about coming to poetry night" I countered, which apparently convinced him I was a hopeless case, and he left. I flipped through the pages quickly and tossed it into my guitar case where it has spent the last 9 or 10 months, nestled beneath my Yamaha. Now it was getting slobbered on.

    " Tucker, come! Bring Jesus to me! You're biting holes in the Lord, and I don't think that's good karma. Give me Jesus!"
    Usually, if you simply tell him to come, he will, and surrenders the prize gladly in exchange for a pat on the head. Other times, perhaps if he thinks you really, really want what he has, he makes you work for it. Today he threw his head up, tossing the book and catching it by another corner and danced out of reach.
    I decided to act like it was a game..
    "Hey Tuck- bring me your new toy and I"ll throw it" I said in fake excitement, holding out my hand. Rocket understood the gesture and tone of voice and began barking excitedly. Tucker started toward me, then skittered happily out of reach when I tried to grab for the book.
      Psych! Too smart for ya, lady!

    Enough. I stalked over to the purple plum tree and retrieved one of his tennis balls. "Ready?" I cocked my arm back.
    Tucker froze. Was a ball in the air worth more than Christ in the mouth? I threw the ball and he ran- but with Jesus still in tow!! He dropped the book to pick up the tennis ball and I thought I had him, but when he saw I was running after him to get the book, he ran back for it and snatched it up again before I could grab it.

    I could see this was going nowhere. Determined that I could outwit a 10 month old dog I stalked angrily around the yard and collected 2 tennis balls. I tossed the first one and Tucker chased it, prize booklet in mouth. He made the switch and then turned to see if I was going to go for the book again. Instead I tossed the other ball in the opposite direction. Rocket barked, Tucker ran for it and I scooped up Jesus.

    I stuffed the book in my back pocket and played fetch with Tucker for a few minutes to let him burn off some energy and then took the book back inside. I noticed that, underneath the slobber and teeth marks, the back cover said,
    "We hope that you will share this book with others".
    Well heck- I guess could have let him keep it then.