We’re stopping in Burleson, Texas to visit old friends, Mike and Pam. When we called to beg some time with them, Pam said, “Is Zack coming?” Everybody loves Zack – but Pam has a special place in her heart for the Zackster. And she is an experienced Zack friend from way back. Zack sends her cards every once in a while.
When I think of Zack, and Pam, I smile.
A couple of years ago, we went to Mike and Pam’s for a weekend trip. Pam invited us to bring Zack. Mike was out of the country on a ministry trip. We arrived on Friday night, went and picked up the furniture we bought, and shopped in town with Pam. Our goal was to head home Sunday to have Younger Son back in Midland by 6 p.m. for a church youth group party.
Saturday night, it was cold. Rainy. Dark. Zack was about 6 months old. I was reading, and the rest of the household was playing canasta. Zack let me know he needed to go out, so I let him out…and immediately, the solid liver coat disappeared into the dark.
I couldn’t see Zack…anywhere. Panicked, I called MLH away from the canasta game. I’m in the back yard, calling Zack.
MLH coats and hats up, and goes outside. By his voice, I know he’s thinking we’ve lost the boy…”Zack! Zack! Here! Here!” I can see MLH silhouetted against the neighbor’s big light. He’s in their yard. I’m thinking, “We’re in the country. MLH could get his butt peppered with buckshot. This isn’t the smartest thing I’ve ever done.”
After about 3 minutes of the entire household looking for him, I hear the jingle of Zack’s tags. He comes back into the house, looking sideways at me, like “what’s up with all of y’all?”. He knows he’s in trouble. I tell him, “Get on your pillow, Zack. Pillow.” He gets on his pillow. MLH enters the house, wiping rain off his garments. He goes to Zack, and gives him a mini-lecture. Zack lays on his pillow, big brown eyes looking up at MLH, and seems properly remorseful. The canasta game resumes.
Later, Zack and I retire. His crate is right by our guest bed. Last night, we found the bed delightful. Big, soft, fluffy, and decorated with by Pam’s mom’s heirloom antique quilt.
About 3 a.m., MLH comes to our room, quietly, so as not to wake Zack or myself. (He’s such a considerate husband.)
Somehow, in my sleep, I recognize he’s in the room, and roll over.
I hear his voice…"Janie, honey, are you okay?”
I mumble, “Yeah, why?”
“Honey, ummm… by any chance, did you, um…wet the bed?” says MLH.
“No,” I mumble. And I come wide awake.
“What? What do you mean? Why do you ask that?” I query, confused, still having trouble communicating.
We both get quiet. Reality sets in.
MLH says, laughingly, “Zack! Did you do this?”
Zack had snuck into the bedroom after MLH chewed him out. Evidently, he checked out which side of the bed MLH slept on, and let the Master know his true feelings about the little gripe session in front of others.
“That will teach him not to trash me in front of my peers!” Zack probably said under his puppy breath.
We spent the rest of the night laundering linens for our hostess, and laughed plenty about the ironies of dog ownership – Pam, included. Since we didn’t finish our nights sleep, we made it back to Midland in time for Younger Son’s party.
Since then, when he remembers, Zack sporadically sends Pam Hallmark greeting cards with lots of love and lickies to let her know he greatly appreciates their relationship…her love and graciousness, as well as her sense of humor.