The Money Dog—Worth Her Weight in Gold
One very hot August day when I was a single mom, I was working in the office of a roofing company. My eighteen-year-old son worked with me. Next door to my workplace was the office of a general contractor in the construction field. This particular morning, my guys were out in the field, so the office was slow.
The general contractor’s wife from next door came over to ask me to see something. I quickly walked over to their office, through the front reception area, and into a small back room. There stood a dog looking up at me with dark sad eyes. She had been given to the general contractor by a transient who lived along the railroad tracks behind our building. She was a black Labrador and border collie mix, the last of the litter. I squatted down in front of her and told her to sit. She sat. And then she looked up at me, and her eyes told me to take her home. I did.
My sixteen-year-old son had been pestering me for a dog he could call his own. Anyone with kids, teens or otherwise, knows that as a parent you will wind up caring for this must-have pet. Still, I could not resist.
The first day home, she swallowed a nickel, so we named her Money Dog. The following day when we got home from work, we discovered she had taken the bathroom tissue out of the bathroom. When we followed it around the hallway and into the living room, we found it encircled a bunch of other miscellaneous must-haves she had neatly placed in a pile. She just sat there, looking at us. Border collies round things up. How in the world could you be mad at that?
That’s where it all began—our love for a puppy who needed us. A puppy we needed.
Both my boys were teenagers, and they needed a diversion. Money Dog gave that to them. They couldn’t wait to get home from school to see what she had done, what they could teach her, and even what she could teach them. It was amazing to watch them with her, learning to nurture her and train her. They taught her to jump from couch to love seat to couch without touching the floor. And I allowed it. It kept them busy. No more “Mom, I’m bored!”
This dog turned their hearts and mind to mush. And yes, mine too. And we laughed. We had so many serious moments of work, discipline, homework, bills to pay, battles to win . . . or lose. Money Dog gave us back our laughter and taught us how to have fun together.
We could not say the word ride too loudly or we would have to drop everything and take her for one, even if it was just around the block. It excited her so! Many weekends turned into field trips with Money Dog (and peace for me). She loved going for rides. There she sat, with her elbow on the arm of the car door, head out the window, fur blowing in the breeze, tongue hanging out. Quite the visual, isn’t it? You didn’t want to be in the backseat, that’s for sure!
Off my boys and the dog would go, camping in their favorite spot where Money Dog loved rock climbing and jumping into the river to retrieve sticks bigger than she was, always wanting to please. Then they would get home, exhausted, and Money Dog would seek out our cat, Special K, and fall asleep. All was well in our world again.
She was such a loving, smart, compassionate dog. She loved all three of our cats. The last kitten we got was a stray who thought Money Dog was her mommy. Money Dog didn’t care. She loved kids. She loved people—even the mail carriers. She did raise a fuss when the local electric or gas company came to read the meters, though. Her hair would stand up on her back. I felt protected, and they didn’t know she wouldn’t hurt a fly.
She knew how to take only one or two treats out of the box. She would actually smile at us. And she didn’t even mind when my youngest son shaved her fur off and made the shape of “M Dog” on her back. Unconditional love.
One of the most amazing memories I have is of the time my eighty-three-year-old mom came to visit us. It was a long journey for her, alone on a plane from Michigan to California. By now both my sons were out of the house. Mom was in the early stages of dementia, and she was feeling a bit overwhelmed. She still had such a sweet spirit and gentle soul, though—she laughed at anything and everything.
This uneventful day, Mom was sitting on the couch, pretty lethargic, just staring out the window. Suddenly, Money Dog walked up to her, sat at her feet, put her paw on her leg, and looked up at her with dark eyes as if to say, “Cheer up! I’m pretty bored too.” Mom put a huge smile on her face and began to pet Money Dog. The dog laid her face on Mom’s leg. Both of them were as content as can be. It was fabulous to see how our wonderful, compassionate dog knew Mom needed that affection right at that time.
I believe it is God’s perfect timing to do just the right thing at just the right time for those he loves. My sons needed Money Dog. So did Mom. So did I.
God is good—he knows what we need when we need it. And for that I will always be thankful.