Jake and the Duck

Jake and the Duck
(24th Anniversary Edition)

As we celebrate the 24th Anniversary of the Old Lazy Dog - Great Day Addendum and www.oldlazydog.com, today's GDA is the one that got it all started. Hope it speaks to you like it still speaks to me. Keep the Faith - Marty

Jake and the Duck

“And remember, it is a message to obey, not just to listen to. If you don’t obey, you are only fooling yourself. For if you listen and don’t obey, it is like looking at your face in the mirror but doing nothing to improve your appearance. You see yourself, walk away, and forget what you look like. But if you keep looking into God’s perfect law – the law that sets you free – and if you do what it says and don’t forget what you heard, then God will bless you for doing it.” – James 1:22-25 NLT

Jake was my dog. If there is any such thing as a soul dog, Jake was mine. For 12 years the Black Lab was my buddy… my friend.

When I first found Jake in the pound in Birmingham, I spent time teaching him how to sit… how to shake… how to stay… how to run next to me without getting under my feet. In the confines and safety of my backyard, I taught him how to catch a Frisbee and return it by using the little toy Frisbees that once came as the prize in my Frosted Flakes cereal box.

We worked hard and played hard in those days. We used to run nearly every day and then swim in the Sound in Ft. Walton Beach or Pensacola, and retrieve the same stick that we held on to for some 11 years – somehow being almost petrified by the constant exposure to the salt water and the dry air.

Jake learned to stake focused on that stick. Focused on where I would throw it. Focused on where it would land in the water. He’d swim to it. Pick it up with his mouth. Swim back and drop it with his tail wagging and this crazy dog smile on his face as if to say, “Throw it again… do it again… do it again… do it again…”

Dog’s, like us in most cases, are creatures of habit. Jake and I would run our three-mile course most every day and I would make the same turn day after day toward the Sound. And Jake’s excitement, his focus on the run became a focus on my commands and ultimately the water.

As my confidence in Jake obeying me and my commands continued to grow, I began to pop off his leash early as we would make our turn toward the water.

On one fateful day, I was feeling pretty good about Jake and our run, so I popped the leash off earlier than normal and watched Jake sprint toward the water. Everything normal. Everything just like the day before and the day before that… and the day before that…

But this time something else grabbed his attention.

A Duck.

Jake’s focused immediately change from me… from the stick… from the water… to the duck.

And he took off after it, only once looking back at me as if to say, “I hear you man, but I’m getting this duck…”
Now, this was not your ordinary run of the mill duck. No. This duck was something different. This duck was street wise. Or at least, dog-wise.

This duck somehow stayed two feet in front of my sprinting dog and would look back at him and flap his wings to make sure the dog was still on his tail… leading him toward the water. Jake never missed a stride… barking and chasing the duck… the call of the wild taking control… overwhelming his training… overriding the calls of his master.

Then the duck took a low flight and I thought the ordeal was over. I thought the duck would fly off to safety and Jake and I would get back to our routine.

If only I were that lucky.

The duck landed some ten feet in the water and just sort of sat there. Waiting on the dog. Somehow baiting him along.

And Jake took the bait. Without missing a beat, Jake took two or three strides in the shallow water. Then he leaped toward the duck. Landing a foot or so away.

The chase was on again.

This duck…maybe the smartest and calmest duck I have ever seen… stayed two feet in front of the now swimming Jake and lead him out into the shipping lane.

Now, for those who may not be familiar with the Sound and the shipping lane, the shipping lane is where the deep water is in the Sound. It’s where the barges will be ferried and where the bigger, heavier boats will run without fear of dragging the bottom.

And it was where the duck was leading my dog. With me standing on the shoreline with leash and fetching stick in hand... screaming for Jake… wanting him to hear me… wanting him to call off the chase… wanting him to just acknowledge me and return to me.

Just then, the duck did what I had only read about in a children’s fable.

The pursued had become the pursuer… the hunted, the hunter.

The duck turned on Jake and began to attack the dog. Flapping his wings. Biting at his head. With barks and quacks and splashing and thrashing around, the duck began to flap his wings… and tried again and again to jump on Jake’s head.

My thoughts immediately turned from the safety of the street-wise duck to the life of my instinct-led dog.

I could not believe my eyes. The duck was trying to drown my dog!

I had to go after him. I had to save my dog from this crazy duck. So, I immediately stripped off my shirt and running shoes and ran into the water as far I could run… and then began to swim furiously toward the two combatants. With fetching stick in hand, I swam and watched. Hoping that I would not be too late.

As I arrived, I grabbed Jake around the neck like I would a drowning man and began to swing the stick at the duck… shooing him… even nicking and grazing him a few times with the stick turned weapon until finally THUD! I nailed him fully with the stick and he splashed into the water some five or six feet away… and I made like a lifeguard swimming Jake and me back toward the land.

Now, the thing about dogs… or at least Labs… is that even though you may be holding them in the water, they never stop swimming. So, through the battle with the duck and as we made our way back to the shore, Jake’s paws and claws scraped and scratched me… bloodying me... bloodying my chest and my arms and my stomach.

When we finally reached the shallow water, I let go of Jake and began to walk to the shoreline and scold the dog for his disobedience. My trust and faith in my dog all but gone.

With my frustration rising and anger boiling, I caught a glimpse of my bloodied arms and torso. And that’s when it hit me.

My fighting the duck… My saving Jake… My getting bloodied, clawed and beaten up… is what my Savior… what Jesus did for us… Did for me.

He was bloodied and bruised… fought off my ducks… my enemies… my sins… forgiving me… while He died on the criminal’s cross…

And through the scolding… the anger… the calming contemplation… Jake sat there… panting… almost smiling… and tried to shake my hand with his paw… wanting me to throw the stick…. Wanting me to forgive and move on… and play.

Isn’t that just like us? Just like Jake learning inside the fence… inside the bubble, we go to church… to Sunday School… maybe even a Wednesday night small group. We hear the Word… We hear the pastor. We may even feel and hear God tugging on our hearts to do something… to go deeper… to know him more. We may even commit to ourselves to make a change… to do better… to focus. But when the sermon is over… the lesson done… and the doors are open, we leave unaffected… unchanged… something else catching our focus… our attention.

Like Jake the Dog, we hear… get taught… even trained. Yet, we choose to go our own way… choose to chase our ducks. Forgetting what we heard. Forgetting what we learned. Even forgetting to listen… to hear… the voice of the Master.

What are the ducks in our lives?

What are those things that steal our attention… that steal our focus… that draw us in over our head… then turn on us and try to drown us?

What is it that keeps is from being hearers and doers?

Maybe it’s time to go duck hunting?

“Greater love has no one than this that he lay down his life for his friends. You are my friends if you do what I command.” – John 15:13-14 NIV