Unleashed!

Our pastor, Terry Shue, likes to use the word "unleashed." Habits of speech are interesting and I have no idea how Terry got so enamored of this particular word. It is a wonderful word, though--full of energy and life. I hope he'll continue to talk about "unleasing the power of God in the world" and all the other unleashings that are so exciting to contemplate. I was thinking about being unleashed the other day while I was out with my dog.

Today is a cold, blustery January day and I'll be inside all day. My black lab, Beauregard, is curled up in his dog house in the straw waiting out the storm. I'm here in my loft doing the same. It's been a mild January for the most part and Beau and I have been outdoors together often. He's an outside pet, so I have to go out to spend time with him.

He's also extremely active, so I've fitted him with a "head collar." We walk down the road together when it's nice. The head collar fastens high on his neck. A loop goes over his snout and attaches to his leash. He can still snif and chew, eat and drink. But if he tries to drag me down the road his head turns to the side and feels bad to him. I slow him down a lot, but he's learning to be a good walking companion. There seems to be more potential for him slowing down than there is for the other option--me starting to jog and keeping pace with him.

On our last walk, we sauntered along the road and Beau acted in his usual puppy-like ways. (I've heard from several people now that a black lab might be a puppy for as long as three years. One down, two to go, Beau!) He sometimes walks with his head up, sniffing the air as if there is something wonderful in it. He looks the perfect picture of a hunting dog--the kind they put on the calendars you get at places like Fin, Fur & Feather.

But, sometimes he grosses me out. Beau noses out the scent of road kill jerky. If I'm not careful, he'll grab it in his teeth and shake it until the mangled fur and bones scatter. Even worse is the way he snarfs up road apples left by the many horses that go down South Kansas Road. Oh yuck! I try to keep a handful of treats in my pocket and give him one from my (gloved) hand as a bribe away from Beau's self-selected "treats." I've noticed that as much as he likes the aforementiond stuff, he's less excited about Bud Light and Camels. He did seem halfway interested in an unfinished bottle of Mountain Dew.

On Monday, the weather was so nice we walked further than usual. I took him back a lane and into a field. As soon as we were safely off the road I unleashed him. Suddenly life as Beau knew it took on new meaning! He bounced up and down over the rough terrain, ears flopping, nose in the air, nose to the ground. He zig-zagged and drank from puddles and flew over fallen trees. He posed with his two front paws a fallen tree trunk and surveyed the world with brand new enthusiasm. He was "Unleashed!" All of the former constraints were gone. He was free to be his most beautiful and uninhibited doggy self. He was the essence of beauty and grace and he was free to explore the equivalent of the doggy universe. He was his true nature, through and through.

I wish I could tell you that in his unleashed state Beau lost interest in "jerky." Not so. Eventually he found the vintage 18 month decomposing dead deer at the back of the woods. He sniffed, but when I called to him came running up to me--tail wagging. Even when he's unleashed, he will come when called. He's a good dog and I've often told him so.

I tried to think how this "unleashed" analogy applies to me and to God at work in the world. There are limits to metaphorical language, I guess. But I've confirmed that Terry is right in favoring this word. I wonder, too, if there's a reason God is doG spelled backward. Are both of them leaping through the tall grass and leaving their paw prints scattered over the soft earth? Shall I follow them out as they survey the wide open spaces where who-knows-what awaits my arrival?