Hungry Jack...and John

The Beagle started whining at 1:05am. With the exception of my son, no one else in our home hears that sound in the middle of the night. But even he assumes the mercy of the father and so he stays still; dad'll get it. I let the Beagle out, then let the Beagle in, then stand there as the Beagle eats an entire bowl of food. Hungry Jack? As the Beagle wolfs down the kibble, he looks at me from time to time, as if to say, "Do you want to sit down or anything? I'm gonna be a minute here." My frustration faded minutes ago; now I'm thankful for this dog. Again.

A lot of folks have written books about their dogs and what all they've learned from them; Lessons from Jack or titles like that. I could write one as well, although mine probably wouldn't sell a million because sometimes my language would slip and such. Still, Jack the Beagle teaches me. If I'm listening.

Our dog was hungry early this morning. I'm hungry too; not for kibble, but for other things that I believe are needs, not wants, but are probably a combination of the two. Hungry Jack did what he knew to do; he started crying out for the merciful father. I've been crying out too, to the merciful father. Have mercy, O Lord. In a way, I really need the good Lord to get out of bed and traipse down here and let me out, then let me in, then stand there while I eat and drink my fill. I'm not trying to be a bother; I'm just hungry and to whom else can I turn, where else can I go if not to Thee, O Lord? I know its early, Lord, but my stomach is growling and I'm panting like a deer. Everyone else is asleep and I've it on good authority that you don't sleep or slumber. Just one bowl's all I need and a little water. And maybe a belly rub? I'll go right back to bed, honest.

Woof (amen).