Old Dog I
Back to: The Vision of the Road
I Was Born A Wolf
by Bob Neumann
I was born a wolf long ago, in a deep hole. A place of darkness with only the sounds and smells of my littermates that remain in the recesses of my memory. Survival was based on the instincts of my species. To huddle together for warmth in the cold. To be stronger and faster than my mates when allowed to nurse. To fight and win the pieces of meat when the milk stopped. To survive was the call of my kind in the very core of my being.
Then one day, deep in the pit my world changed as a new sound came far from above me. And suddenly I was pulled up and out of the pit and into the light. I was held helpless by a strength incomprehensible. And I knew fear for no matter how I struggled I could not escape and I could not run away…. my strongest survival instinct. And I cried out in the pitiful voice of the pup that I was, but the pack did not come to help me.
I was alone in the light. I was helpless. Surely I was lost and about to be devoured. And then I heard this VOICE. A sound unlike any I had heard before repeating over and over. Then I did not know the POWER OF HIS WORDS or their meaning. That came with time. But HE kept saying “IT”S GOING TO BE ALL RIGHT”.
With HIS HAND securely holding me, HIS VOICE reassuring me, I began to feel the warmth of HIS CHEST as HE carried me. As HE walked I could feel the steady cadence of HIS STEPS and I was aware of the RHYTHM and BEAT of HIS HEART. Slowly I realized I was safe and fell asleep.
Later when I awoke in HIS ARMS I was aware of only four things…. HIS ARM that held me, HIS HAND that fed me, HIS VOICE that comforted me, and HIS HEART that reassured me. Instinct said that my allegiance was to the pack. That the pack leader would protect and feed me. So I bonded to HE whose HAND fed me and VOICE instructed me. And in time HE took me out to HIS PACK….
A very strange pack it was. They did not look, sound, act, or smell like any thing I knew. Yet if HE was the leader it was now my pack to which I belonged. In time I learned that what I called a pack HE called HIS FLOCK. And the SHEEP of HIS FLOCK in time learned to tolerate my presence and ignored me. Yet the instincts of the pack were changed to serve the SHEPHERD’S will. Hunting instinct became herding skills. My response to the pack leader was changed to following the commands of the SHEPHERD. Whether it was a whistle or a signal of HIS HAND I knew HIS COMMAND and I obeyed.
Moving the flock from pasture to pasture there was always strays to gather in. It took little time for even a pup to learn that sheep are quite stupid and goats are quite obstinate. But it took a long time for me to realize that while the sheep recognized HIS VOICE they did not understand HIS WORDS. So I understood my role and HIS only rule…”DO NOT REND MY SHEEP, HARM NOT THE GOATS”. This took time to learn and to suppress my instincts for my loyalty had changed to what you call LOVE.
For I was not a sheep. At night when the flock was safely in their fold I stayed not with them. MY MASTER who stayed at the gate of the fold kept me with HIM. It was at HIS FEET I slept. And from HIS HAND I was fed.
Then one day I became alert when an old smell was faint on the wind. The sheep did not notice but I had. And my first instinct was to protect the flock. So I took my stance between the memory and MY MASTER’S SHEEP.
I doubt if he even knew I was there for all he could smell was sheep. His frame was thin and his coat was mangy. Scars of old battles were easily seen. The thought of an easy kill and a full belly must have been on his mind for he never noticed me till it was too late. It was quick and loud. And the sheep were disturbed. I was not surprised when I looked up and saw the MASTER striding toward me. I sat by the carcass and looked into HIS FACE. I thought HE would be happy but I saw the quiet look of concern in HIS EYES. Had I done wrong? I had protected the flock? And with quiet gentleness HE reached out and probed the wound on my shoulder. And once again I heard HIS WORDS…”IT’S GOING TO BE ALL RIGHT”…
Then one day I again noticed a smell and realized this was different. Not one old wolf, weak and starving, but something bigger and a lot different than any I had ever encountered. And I got nervous and challenged the smell and the sound I could barely hear. Again I stood between the danger and the sheep. The sheep being sheep started bleating and milling together as I barked and growled knowing that was what I had to do. And when the bear stood to his full height I attacked low. It took only the first glancing blow to tell me I was out matched but it mattered little. The pack/flock comes first. Then suddenly the bear stopped his attack and turned to flee as the SHEPHERD’S VOICE rang out in a battle cry that shook the heavens as together MY LEADER and I ran down the predator and made our kill. I fed well that night.
I Another time the threat came and it was another pack. The danger to the flock was great. Wolves/jackals/and wild dogs work together for their kills. They came for sheep and found a sheepdog. Before they could encircle the flock I attacked the pack leader. They expected an easy kill. Instead they found teeth and an attitude. It was a glorious battle while it lasted. By attacking their leader I took the pack’s attention away from HIS SHEEP. The next thing I remember is HIS ARM picking me gently off the battle field and HIS VOICE saying “GOOD DOG, GOOD DOG, IT’S GOING TO BE ALL RIGHT”. SO IT REALLY DOESN’T MATTER WHAT ATTACKS THE FLOCK… WOLF, BEAR, LION…OR EVEN DRAGON. I WILL NOT RUN!!!!!
I WILL MAKE MY STAND BETWEEN THE DANGER AND HIS SHEEP. FOR I AM NEVER ALONE. MY SHEPHERD WILL ALWAYS COME WHEN I CALL. AND WHATEVER THE OUTCOME, HE WILL TEND MY WOUNDS AND CARRY ME HOME…. TO SIT AT HIS FEET AND STAY AT HIS SIDE.
I was born a wolf, but I found a MASTER who talks to me and feeds me. Who knows exactly where on my belly where to scratch…. Who has a piece of old rug with my scent on it, which nicely fits at the foot of HIS THRONE.
What more could an old dog want in HEAVEN.
Selah bob in Miami