Jasper and Sam

I could say Happy New Year and retain the impression of immediacy, but it's the first week of December, it's seven thirty in the morning and I'm typing one handed, because Sam mistook my hand for a bacon sandwich. He didn't bite it, just twisted it, but it's not working very well. Who is Sam? You might well ask. Well, he is one of the two new Labrador puppies that we have acquired. It has been six months since Paddy died and we thought it was time to get a new dog. We are sensible grown up people so we thought out carefully what we wanted, asked for the best advice, consulted widely, swallowed hard when we found out how much puppies cost, and put our names down for a potential puppy three months hence. (It all seemed a little like putting ones child's name down for Eton before birth.) We wanted two dog puppies, one of which will be Rachel's and one will be ours. They would train together, I would look after their walks during the week and Rachel would look after the weekends. It was all sorted, and they would be arriving in the Spring.

The best laid plans...

Then it happened; we had at the initial stage heard about a litter of chocolate Labradors in Carmarthen, but when we had enquired they had been far too much for us to afford, and far too early for our carefully prepared plans. But, just a couple of weeks ago, we found out that the breeder had two dogs left, and that their price had reduced by two thirds. We rang up to discover the puppies were now eleven weeks and she needed to sell them, as somebody had ordered them and then backed out because they were not perfect.

'What do you mean not perfect?' I said, my imagination running wild. 'Well they have tan markings, but they are healthy and they have a lovely temperament.' she replied.

So, Rachel and I drove the hundred plus miles to meet our potential new dogs. The rest, as they say, is history - all carefully made plans out of the window, and the boys Jasper and Sam came back with us.

After the euphoria, of course, comes the reality of two bouncy, large, intelligent, mischievous puppies. The question of parentage remain. Ros reckons that Sam, the smaller one, is a Rotweiller Daschund cross. The vet on sighting them said that we had grounds for action, never having seen brindle markings on a Labrador before, and suggesting dark tales of adultery. My friend came out with some explanation about genetics and breeding chocolate on chocolate. Apparently you need black occasionally. Don't understand really, I just know that they are cute.

Families

Anyway back to the reality, it's a bit like having babies again. The early mornings, the focus on bodily functions, saying 'Good Boy!' very enthusiastically, just because a dog had relieved itself and it's not on your best carpet. It's reminded me what family is about, it's about belonging, not having to be perfect to be loved, and about hanging on in there when things are hard work. I'm reminded of a piece by Harpo Marx (somehow appropriate for us!). He was the one who played the harp in the Marx brothers and never spoke, but he wasn't mute - just a clown. He married late in life and had, according to the story, one of the most stable family lives in Hollywood, an achievement in itself. He wrote about family rules, and it's something I read often and realise my own inadequacy. I quote just a short piece:

'I was the same kind of father as I was a harpist - I played by ear…. What rules we had, as a family, stemmed from the fact that we had all been adopted by each other. We've always had equal amounts of gratitude and respect mixed in with our love for each other.'

And some of the rules:

'Life has been created for you to enjoy, but you won't enjoy it unless you pay for it with some good hard work. This is the one price that will never be marked down.
You can work at whatever you want to, as long as you do it as well as you can and clean up afterwards, and you're at the table at mealtime and in bed at bedtime.'

Church when it works properly is like a family, a proper family, and I think we're getting there. Because families and churches aren't about being perfect; they're about belonging and being loved unconditionally, and Jesus was pretty good at that.

Alan Harper - Jan 04