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Meet Walter

I TOOK MY DOG TO THE VET THIS MORNING.

Walter is a white German shepherd puppy, although I use the word puppy loosely. This is because Walter slobbers like a fire hydrant. He eats like a vacuum. And when he’s not trying to scramble onto my lap like a fifty-pound Pomeranian, he’s ricocheting around the house like a loose balloon on amphetamines.

So you can see why, when Walter started moping around the house a few days ago, I knew something was wrong.

I got the prognosis (and the bill) this morning.

Walter has tonsillitis.

I didn’t even know dogs had tonsils.

I guess I shouldn’t complain. As long as I’m paying a vet bill, at least I’m getting my money’s worth. At least tonsillitis is a real ailment, unlike the LAST time Walter had to go to the vet. It was about two months ago, and Walter had just spent three days limping and moaning around the house. I searched for burrs, broken bones, cuts, or bruises to no avail. I was heading out the front door to take Walter to the vet when my teenage daughter said, “Maybe it has something to do with the fact that Kacie’s been standing on his leg.”

I explained all this to the vet as he was examining my dog. When the exam was through, the good doctor gave me his recommendation: “I’d suggest you tell your five-year-old to stop standing on his leg.”

That’ll be sixty dollars, please.

But I’m not complaining. Walter is worth it. He adds a lot of value to our home. I can’t say how much in terms of dollars yet because I’m still researching the going rate for shed dog hair, but if there’s any sort of market for this stuff at all, we could be talking really big bucks.

So I’m doing my best to keep Walter healthy. Actually, that’s my goal when it comes to the rest of my family as well. We’re going into flu season, and it’s time to stock up on cough syrup and decongestant.

Not to mention Vitamin C, veggies, and warm mittens. After all, they say an ounce of prevention is worth a pound of cure. This is why I make my kids button up in cold weather. This is also why I tell them to “brush and floss after meals,” “don’t run with sharp sticks,” and “please stop leaning backwards in that chair right now before you fall and break something or I walk over there and wring your neck, whichever comes first.”

But they don’t get it. They think they’re indestructible. They think I’m being Mrs. Killjoy. But when they get sick or hurt, suddenly I’m NURSE Killjoy and their favorite person in the world.

Not that I mind. I love my girls, and I’m happy to be there when they need me. I just wish they’d listen to me more often. I can’t spare them from every virus, bug, or accident, but I sure could steer them clear of more than a few.

Some things, as we’ve said, are just easier to avoid than fix.

Same thing goes for other areas in my kids’ lives, and in my life and yours too.

Like this one friend of mine. She told me talking to men in chat rooms is just fun, and nothing’ll come of it. She didn’t know that I thought that too, but that it started leading me down a scary detour. I had to cut through some brambles to get back to the main road, but I’m back where I want to be and wiser for the wear. I told her about it, but she says she’s fine. She’s in control. She’s handling it.

Just like someone else I love. Someone I knew in college. She had it handled too. Just a drink now and then to relax. Now she’s downing three or four a night and wondering why she feels so trapped.

Just like another friend. There were a few months at the beginning when her affair felt preventable, not that she tried very hard because, let’s face it, it felt pretty good at the moment. Now she’s in the fixin’ stage, trying to put back the pieces of her life, and she never dreamed it’d be this hard.

Just like you. I don’t know the details of your story, but my guess is that you’ve got one. Something you could have prevented, maybe still can. I have two things to say to you:

First, you’re not too late. Getting ahold of whatever is ailing your spirit today—no matter how long it’s gone on—is terrific prevention against creating more sorrow for yourself tomorrow.

Second, whenever it is you jump in and say, “This is it! I’m going to get ahold of this attitude/affair/addiction/habit/feud/temptation right now before it goes unchecked another minute!” (whether you say it when you’ve merely lost control of your thoughts or whether your actions have jumped into the fray as well), one thing doesn’t change: You’re loved just the same with a passionate love by a holy God.

My friend Linda once told me, “I’m just now realizing how much God loves me, and that there’s nothing I can do—NOTHING—that will diminish that love.”

I said, “Then why not just live however we want? Why worry about holding back?”

Linda said, “Because I don’t want the wounds that sin creates in my life.”

Yeah, those wounds. I’ve had them. They’re no fun. And, if you ask me, that’s the best reason of all to buy an ounce of prevention. But as for God’s love, well, that never wavers. And if I end up needing that pound of cure after all, he loves me even then.

As for Walter, he’s feeling much better, thanks for asking. In fact, I’m so stirred up by all this “ounce of prevention” stuff that I’ve taken a few steps to keep Walter from future ailments.

He didn’t seem to mind the vitamins, but trust me when I tell you he’s not at all happy about the mittens.