04 May Love Doesn’t Always Feel Lovely
Jake wants a little bite of my blueberry scone. I can tell by the way he is putting one paw up toward me and drooling. “Hello,” he seems to say. “That looks delicious and I’d like to try some, please.”
But I know he cannot have this.
There’s a sign taped to the brick wall of the bakery’s small patio: “Please don’t feed Jake. He’s having stomach issues. The vet put him on a special diet and he is now feeling better. Thank you!”
Jake is a beloved part of the patio experience. He’s a rescue dog the owners of the bakery took in a few years ago. He spends his day wandering in the shade from table to table to greet people. Jake has a wonderful life that, up until the stomach problems, had included frequent bites of baked treats shared by guests.
I don’t want to make Jake sick, so I shake my head no. Jake understands my message, but he can’t understand why. I can tell that he is not pleased. He comes a bit closer, patiently waiting. I know he is trying to convince me to give him the tiniest bite. When I still don’t give in, he goes back to his checkered bed against the wall. His big brown eyes look droopy and sad.
Love doesn’t always feel lovely. Especially when you’re being stared at by a glum-looking Jake. Yet, as I finish my scone, I think that there are times when this is exactly what love feels like — having another’s best interests in mind, like I have his.
Sometimes love is caring so deeply that we say no, even when we are stared at with puppy dog eyes.