Dogs, Dead Rats and the Love of God
I often see divine love being compared to maternal love. It is said that the love of a mother is the closest form of love to the love of God.
But I think there is a closer equivalent: the love of a dog and their human.
Both a dog and human love each other. The dog makes demands of the human not unlike a prayer, which the human answers, not becuase they have anything to gain in return, but becuase they love the dog and want them to be happy. Again, not all demands are answered: you do not let your dog eat rat poison or socks.
But though the pet dog loves the human, they don't have much to give. And neither do they need to, for the human wants nothing but the dog's happiness and well-being. The human does not even ask for love - a dog may not be able to trust the one taking care of them, but they will still be cared for regardless.
The dog that does not obey the human is not hated or turned out of the house, but treated with love and care and gently corrected. Even if I know my dog will run into the kitchen and steal my potatoes, it does not make me any less happy to see her running inside. She is not loved one bit more or less than the dog that steals cooked food from the counter, or the one that steals scraps from the compost.
Unlike children born of their mothers, dogs are obviously not related to their humans. They have no possibilty of "growing up" and becoming independent, of physically taking care of you when you can't yourself. Perhaps a little more like children, you do not only love dogs that are your own. If you see a dog walking by - even one you have never seen before and know nothing about - you can feel the love rising out of your heart, the urge to protect them from harm, knowing full well that you have nothing to gain.
You might argue that it is because they are cute. And yet, would you not slave away for one day and night, even if they have lost all their hair to mange, even if their teeth have fallen out and they are missing half their limbs?
Would you not come home and find joy in watching them slobber all over you, even if you know they probably ate poop five minutes ago?
Would you not wipe the mud from their paws and remove the dead rats from their mouths, as many times as you have to?
Your very breath would become laden with love, with purpose. You would wake (perhaps it is the only reason you wake at all, nowadays) to see them leap all over you in the morning with unbridled joy, simply because they have not seen you all night.
You would agree, that it is love for the sake of love.
God, may I learn to love like a dog.
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