We survived 25 years of marriage pet-free.  One Christmas time, my wife in a rare moment of weakness gave in to the endless barrage of whining that the kids (and I) kept firing at her about our family's absolute need for a puppy.  The deal she cut with us was that she got to pick the pup – which was fine with us.  As soon as she expressed interest, we got on the phone.  A few calls later we located a Mennonite family near Lancaster that had lab puppies.  Before my wife really understand the significance of her decision, we are standing in front of a large cage of yellow and black yipping, squirming lab puppies.  We all, including my wife, fell in love with one of those chubby little guys, a yellow one with the softest ears ever!  We were all excited when he joined our family a few weeks later and became our beloved Gromit (yes, of Wallace and Gromit fame). 

We established certain rules right from the beginning.  One of the key rules was “no dog were allowed on the furniture.”  We did not want the claw marks on our leather furniture and we also did not want hair all over the place.  As you all probably know, labs are walking hair explosions.  How Gromit’s hair gets in certain locations in our house is well beyond the understanding of mortal man.

                One night, several chewed shoes and a few years later, my wife and I went out together and our two sweet, well behaved daughters stayed home to wacth movies.  We enjoyed a lovely night out – relaxing even – it was good to get away for a few hours.  At the end of the evening, we were thrilled to step back into the house and hear that all was quiet, albeit, maybe too quiet.  It kind of made us wonder what was wrong?  Gromit always met us at the door with at least a couple of barks.  Upon exploration of the house, we found our girls in our family room, under blankets, watching scary movies with Gromit cuddled up on the couch between them.  “He's protecting us,” they said. 

Well, that was the end of the “no dog on the furniture” rule – at least in the family room.  I have to admit, there were those times when it was very nice to have that warm, fuzzy buddy snuggled up – especially on colder winter nights.

                Last summer, our oldest daughter got married.  As is often the case with newlyweds, they needed some furniture.  By this time, we were getting a little tired of our couch in the family room - the one with all the claw marks!  So, we decided to give this furniture the newlyweds.  You have to recognize that this was Gromit’s furniture.  The family room sat waiting for several weeks for thw new furniture.  But, when the beautiful new furniture arrived, the rule once again became “no dog allowed on the furniture.”  It took us a few days acting like prison guards over the new furniture to break the old habits with Gromit.  And, there were those evenings while we were watching TV when there was obviously moments of doggy confusion, but, the rule stuck.  But, as we would sit there on our comfortable new furniture, our consciences started getting the better of us as we saw poor Gromit laying there on that cold, hard ceramic tile. 

                So, now as we watch TV in the evenings all is well.  Gromit is very happy in his recliner – yes, his own recliner – in the room for the sole purpose and use of Gromit.  Can you believe it?  I absolutely concede that we are the biggest pushovers ever.  But, in our defense, I think of 1 Timothy 5:8, “But if any provide not for his own, and specially for those of his own house, he hath denied the faith, and is worse than an infidel (KJV).”  Gromit is definitely a part of our own house – a part of our family.  It brings me pleasure to see him curled up in his chair and to know that I have once again avoided becoming an infidel.