My Husky, Mya, has been with us for five months. Her collar broke during her wrestlemania with Zorro. Or maybe it broke while sneaking out the doggie door with my shoe, a pillow, a candle, various books……
I search to find her one, but I can only find Hanah’s. It seems wrong to let her wear Hanah’s collar (Hanah was the perfect Husky). But I have nothing else until I buy a new one.
She sits innocently in front of me as I place her name tag on Hanah’s collar. Looking into her sweet, blue eyes, I take her little face in my hands and whisper, “You are not worthy to wear this.” She cocks her head and gives me her paw as if to make a vow—that she will make me proud and wear it well. I slip it around her neck.
Throughout the day, I meditate on my words: “You are not worthy to wear this.”
I’m not worthy to ‘put on’ Christ, but I do.
I run to find Mya and give her an apology hug (as if she understands all of this). I feel moved to tell the little girl that I’m sorry for telling her she is not worthy. I find her in the back yard with a couch arm cover shredded and covered in dirt.
I turn and head back to the house. Yep, neither one of us worthy.
And I love her anyway.