Out Our Way: Jack, Doc and me - Psalm 91

Out our way, the bond between humans and domesticated animals can be quite strong. “Jack” the Rez dog was more than a pet; he was also a friend and at least once a protector. Mountain lions, although rare, still roam the Bear Paws and have been known to attack people on occasion. They are also known sometimes to come to town. A friend told me of seeing one in her backyard one morning, and a few years ago, as I was taking Doc out of the paddock to saddle him up, I noticed him become very agitated. Although we were still within city limits on the edge of town, glancing over his back as I was trying to calm him I saw a lion trotting toward us over a hill in the pasture next to the barn. Apparently Doc’s size and the sight of an alert human were enough to change the big cat’s mind and it turned around and trotted back up and over the hill.

A year or so later, Jack came with Doc and me on a ride up near a friend’s place in the Bear Paws, and suddenly Doc stiffened up and became highly agitated. Though I could see nothing, there was no doubt that something was in the trees and brush next to the trail. Jack bristled, too, but then he went trotting off into the woods. A low growl and furious barking erupted, and whatever that “something” was took off. Doc relaxed, and a few seconds later Jack came trotting out with a grin on his wolf-like face, obviously well satisfied that he had taken care of business.

Jack and Doc had a bond of sorts with each other, and also with me. Jack didn’t realize he was a 70-pound mutt, and he would often leap into my lap in the living room, roll over and wait for me to scratch his tummy. It was sort of our special thing. As for Doc, no, he didn’t try to get in my lap nor roll over for a tummy scratch, but he would nicker at me when I came up to the paddock, and when he was out to pasture and saw me coming with his halter and lead rope, while the other horses would often turn and trot away, he stood still. I would call to him and stretch out my hand, palm out, and talk gently to him. And he knew to just stand still and let me come up to him, attach the halter and lead him down to the fence where his saddle and bridle awaited. Jack, Doc and I trusted each other, and that’s what made our time together so special.

Reading the Psalms, I see that same relationship between God and His people being God’s fondest desire. Psalm 23, of course, speaks of God as the Good Shepherd, an image even cowboys can understand and appreciate. But God wants a deeper relationship than a shepherd and sheep. He seeks a connection based on mutual love, respect and loyalty.  

I know there were times Doc and Jack were puzzled when hard times came to them, and perhaps they wondered why I didn’t fix it. Why did Jack get a face full of porcupine quills? Why did Doc pull the muscles in his left hind leg and nearly go lame? I confess, in the same way, I am often puzzled by life as well. Why am I having to deal with all these present trials and devastation? I don’t understand the whys and wherefores any more than Doc or Jack can. But they never blamed me, and that love and trust we shared never wavered. I got Jack to the vet and those quills pulled out. I got Doc treatment for his sore muscles and worked him gently to get the kinks out. 

Now God is doing the same for me. The treatment for my spiritual ills is as painful as the vet pulling out the quills had to have been for Jack, or kneading the soreness in Doc’s hip and making him walk to loosen the muscles up even though it hurt. But though it hurt and they did not understand why, they trusted me. God asks me for the same trust in my time of sorrows. May I be as trusting and loving as Jack and Doc. 

Be blessed and be a blessing!

Brother John

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The Rev. John Bruington is the retired pastor of First Presbyterian Church of Havre. He now lives in Colorado, but continues to write “Out Our Way.”