Bite the hand that feeds image courtesy of photo

Bite the hand that feeds
image courtesy of photo

I don’t trust him… and for good reason. He’s not remotely aware of the old adage by Bill Shakespeare, “No good deed goes unpunished”, which is just a fancier way of saying, “Don’t bite the hand that feeds you”.

There would be little point in trying to explain this concept to him. Even if he did listen he’d never really grasp it. He just wants what he wants – not so different than most of us.

Our relationship is less than the ideal, “Give and take”, type of one. He’s more of a taker. Come to think of it, he gives very little to anybody… and when he takes, he doesn’t mean to, but he doesn’t care who gets hurt.

He’s also a creature of habit, eats the same breakfast every day, and I mean the exact same morning meal three hundred and sixty-five days a year. He never gets fed up with it. He has the same desperate love for it every morning, come rain or shine.

I try to avoid being the one to serve him breakfast. I’m usually out of the house before my wife so she gets the honors, but on occasion, usually weekends, I get stuck with the task.

I take the thin breakfast treat in my hand and before I can turn around he’s on me. He sneezes and pops wheelies, kinda like a wild horse rearing up on his hind legs and jumps around in elation.

Years ago I’d hold the broken off piece of heavenly jerky treat and make him “shake” before I’d give him his breakfast. As carefully as I could, I’d hold the treat within reach and try to avoid his teeth as they snapped in desperation for his first bites of the day.

Turns out, more often than not, I’d be the first bite of his day. My dog Larry tends to bite me… the very hand that feeds him.

After years on top of years of trying to teach Larry how to not snap and break skin while he’s being fed, I’ve given up… I think he’s part snapping turtle.

While I haven’t bitten anyone since childhood now, I’ve taken people for granted. I haven’t broken skin, but I’m certain, like most of us, I’ve hurt others and broken hearts.

Our fallen human condition makes us susceptible to take others for granted, or “Bite the hand that feeds us” as they say. Like my dog Larry, we want what we want and it starts shortly after our first breaths of air.

Not many of us scream, cry, throw fits or pop wheelies like Larry, but that’s not because we aren’t striving to get what we want, we’ve just been trained in the art of civilization by loved ones that understood sacrifice.

Now that the majority of eyes digesting these words have had kids or have lived long enough to grasp our tendencies and nature, we see a little more clearly. As much as we “get” it, I don’t believe the magnitude of our heavenly Father’s love and sacrifice can be grasped on this side of the physical realm. We too tend to bite our Master’s hand…

I don’t yell at Larry anymore when he inadvertently mistakes my fingers for jerky treats from Costco. I just lament, “Awe Lar?”

I’ve given up trying to teach Larry not to bite the hand that feeds him. I now toss treats to him from about a foot away… but he’s an old dog now… and you know what they say about “old dogs and new tricks”…