The Balanced Pet Parent

Every morning, without fail, I’m greeted by two familiar faces: Annie and Bullet. Annie bursts out of her kennel like a firework—tail wagging, energy radiating, as if she’s been waiting her whole life for this one moment. Bullet follows behind, slow and steady, her eyes calm and wise, offering a quieter but no less devoted welcome.

They are very different, these two. Annie is still young and hyper, full of life and excitement. Bullet is older—gentle, mellow, the kind of soul that doesn’t need to rush to be seen. But both of them love me in ways I don’t always feel I deserve. And in their love, I see a deeper truth: a glimpse of God’s grace.

🩷 Annie: The Wild Joy of Love

Annie the blue heeler/dachshund loves out loud. She leaps into rooms, spins in circles, and practically vibrates with joy when I come home—even if I was only gone for five minutes. She doesn’t hold back. Her love is enthusiastic, over-the-top, and totally uninhibited.

When I watch her, I think of the kind of joy God has in us. Not a detached, distant love, but a delight—a celebration. The kind of love described in Zephaniah 3:17: “He will rejoice over you with singing.” That’s Annie. A living example of love that’s not afraid to dance.

She reminds me that God doesn’t just tolerate me. He delights in me.

🩵 Bullet: Quiet, Faithful Grace

Then there’s Bullet, the red heeler—sweet, serene, and a little slower these days. She’s a little slower to run to the door when I come home. She’ll quietly follow me from room to room, lay nearby, and gently nudge my hand when she senses I need comfort.

Bullet doesn’t need fanfare to show her love. It’s in the stillness. The steady companionship. The quiet presence that says, “I’m here. I always will be.”

That’s grace too—the kind that doesn’t need to be loud to be powerful. The kind that meets you in silence, in weariness, in the everyday. Bullet’s love reminds me of God’s patient presence, His steady faithfulness even when I’m distracted, discouraged, or drifting.

✝️ No Record of Wrongs

What amazes me most about both Annie and Bullet is this: they never keep score. I can have a bad day. I can forget their treats or skip a walk. I can get frustrated. And yet—they come right back to me with open hearts. No resentment. No withholding.

That’s not just love. That’s a holy kind of forgiveness.

It echoes the heart of 1 Corinthians 13:5—“Love keeps no record of wrongs.” That’s what God does for us. That’s what grace looks like. And somehow, through two dogs, I get a living reminder of that every single day.

⏳ Present Love

Annie helps me laugh and live in the moment. Bullet helps me slow down and find peace. Together, they show me that love isn’t always about big gestures or perfect behavior. It’s about being there. Fully present. Whether we’re going on a walk or sitting in stillness, they are with me.

And that’s what God promises too: “I am with you always.” In joy and chaos. In energy and stillness. In all of life.

💭 Final Thoughts

I used to think of God’s love as something lofty and theological—found only in sermons or devotionals. But now I see it in the everyday: in a wagging tail, a pair of gentle eyes, a heart that forgives and shows up again and again.

Annie teaches me the joy and excitement of being fully known and loved. Bullet teaches me the calm, enduring grace that stays, no matter what.

And together, these two dogs point me to the One who loves even better than they do. Perfectly. Unconditionally. Forever.