Timber the Shepherd, pt. 2

“Spite. It’s all because of spite,” he said.

“He” is the trainer hired to try instilling some discipline in our German Shepherd, Timber. [In case you missed it, I wrote about some of the discipline problems in the previous post.]

The trainer explained that German Shepherds resent being left alone, so when everyone in the home leaves him, he destroys stuff out of spite.

Destroys stuff, indeed!

One Sunday, again, we (mom & kids—dad was out of town) came home from church, entered the front door, down the short hallway, and turned the corner to go into the family room.

Yikes!

The spiteful shepherd found the kitchen cabinet where the breakfast cereals were stored, and decided he needed a little Wheaties energy boost. Couldn’t tell you how much he ate, but the box was empty and ripped to shreds. Most of the crispy flakes were scattered all over the kitchen and family room floor.

Same with the box of Frosted Flakes. Guess Timber also thought they were grrrreeeeaaaat!

And the Cap’n Crunch, too.

Took a while to clean up the mess. But the next one took even longer!

A week or two later, we returned home from an evening church service—again, Dad was gone—and we had made sure to rearrange cabinet space so the cereal was out of Timber’s reach. Nevertheless, he could reach whatever was on the kitchen table and countertops!

One of us boys—could have been any one of us—had made a ham sandwich before leaving, which, of course, required mayonnaise and mustard, right? Such condiments are stored in the fridge—that’s where they belong, of course. Except one of said boys—perhaps I was the guilty party who used them last—left the mayo and mustard on the counter. Loaf of bread, too. At least the deli meat was put away.

But the mustard was the French’s Yellow variety…in a squeeze bottle…with the top open.

Apparently out of spite, because he resented being left alone, Timber decided to try making himself a sandwich with bread, mayo, and mustard.

Remains of bread and shreds of the wrapper were scattered everywhere—bad enough. But he wanted mustard on his sandwich, so he grabbed the bottle off the counter and squeezed…and squeezed…and squeezed. Streams of French’s Yellow ran across the family room carpet from one end of the room to the other. Yellow streaks graced the furniture.

Mom was furious.

Timber cowered in another room.

Guess who got to clean up the mess?

Well, clearly, Timber could not be left alone in the house with the freedom to roam anywhere and take out his resentment on the family grocery budget.

So Dad had an idea. When we left, he decided, Timber would be locked up in the bedroom I shared with my brother.

Seemed reasonable.

But the next Sunday, we opened the front door, and Timber greeted us with great enthusiasm. Clearly, he was glad to see us return.

But…he had been locked in my bedroom. What’s he doing greeting us at the front door?

Turning the corner in the hallway heading toward my room, we found the answer.

Timber tore his way through the closed door. Made a hole large enough for two dogs his size to fit through. Admittedly the doors were the cheap hollow-core variety, but still…his mouth should’ve at least been full of splinters!

Next week, he was locked in my parents’ room.

Surprise! A reprise of the week before! Why Dad didn’t expect the same results, I can’t tell.

OK, need a plan C.

Mom’s was the dog pound, which Dad nixed.

Dad’s was a chain. He opened the attic door in the garage and attached a heavy-duty chain to one of the rafters. Whenever everyone was going to be gone, the last person out had to take Timber in the garage and connect the chain to his leash. Easy peasy, one would think.

Came home from church, rounded the corner into our cul-de-sac, and there sat Timber on the front porch. Dad left too much slack for the pooch, so he destroyed door #3.

OK, Dad concluded. This will work…just need to shorten the chain.

It did work—for a while. But the spring temperatures were warming up, so Dad opened the garage window to allow fresh air in.

As I mentioned in the last article, our house abutted the high school property at the southwest corner of the parking lot. West of the parking lot, cady-corner from our house, are the athletic fields where we would have outdoor P.E. classes.

On this particular warm Spring day, my P.E. class went outside to play softball. After my team’s first at-bat, I was assigned to play right field. No sooner did I get into position, but we all heard a loud, shrill yelping coming from the direction of our house.

Sure enough, it was Timber. The chain was long enough for him to reach the window…long enough for him to jump up and break through the screen…but not long enough, once through the window, to reach the ground! So, there he was, hanging out of the window, slowly being strangled to death…frantically clawing to get back up to the window…yelping for help.

So, the pitcher’s about to wind up for his first pitch, and I abandoned my position to run home and rescue Timber.

Mom didn’t appreciate my heroics. I think she secretly wished we had indoor volleyball that day.

Let’s see now, out of spite and resentment for being left alone, Timber ruined two bedroom doors, the garage door, and a window screen…stained the carpet with mustard and more…created huge messes…. And that doesn’t count the numerous minor damages caused by his destructive antics.

“Spite,” the trainer said, “It’s all because of spite.”

How destructive resentment can be, leading dogs—and people—to act out in spiteful behavior!

Ever been on the receiving end of resentment? How about the giving end?

I suppose there are countless examples of this in human interaction, but allow me to mention two from the Bible story of Esther.

First, consider Mordecai (If you need to refresh your memory of the story, read Esther 2:19-3:2).

Note that he’s a clandestine Jew. He’s adopted an Akkadian name based on the Babylonian god Marduk and wants no one to know his ethnicity. Incidentally, same goes for Esther. She’s left behind her Jewish name Hadassah in favor of a name associated with the Akkadian goddess Ishtar.

Anyway, after Esther became the queen, Mordecai foiled a plot to assassinate the king, but he received no recognition for it. No reward. Not so much as a “Thanks, man! You saved my life!” That’s how chapter 2 ends.

The very next thing recorded in the story is that the king promoted Haman to a position above all the princes. With that high, royal position comes legitimate honor and respect, and everyone rightly shows that respect. Except for Mordecai—he adamantly refused to bow in deference and honor to Haman.

Why?

Interesting, that after going to such lengths to keep his ethnicity a secret, he now tries to justify his defiance by appealing to his nationality.

There are two traditional explanations for that. One is that Jews don’t bow in such homage to mere mortals…only to Israel’s God. I don’t buy it. Did he refuse to bow in homage to the king? Certainly not.

The other explanation has to do with Haman’s genealogy—he’s an “Agagite,” which means, the argument goes, he’s a descendant of Agag the Amalekite that King Saul was supposed to destroy hundreds of years earlier. No way he would bow down to such a long-standing arch-enemy. There’s some debate whether “Agagite” refers to a descendant of Agag or to a geographic region, but either way, I’m not convinced that Haman’s genealogy is the real reason Mordecai wouldn’t pay homage. Especially since Agag was killed along with everyone else in the region that he ruled.

In my opinion, Mordecai’s refusal to pay homage has more to do with resentment that Haman got the promotion that Mordecai deserved for saving the king’s life. And out of spite, he refused to show proper deference and used his Jewishness as a convenient excuse—however that served as so-called justification.

And that brings up the second example, found in Haman.

Haman seethed with resentment that Mordecai wouldn’t pay him homage. So, when he heard Mordecai’s excuse—“I’m a Jew!!!”—Haman set in motion of spiteful plan: destroy all the Jews! Not just Mordecai, but every last one of them!

And it almost worked, but for the gracious, sovereign intervention of God.

Get the picture? Resentment…spite…destruction!

Timber’s resentment led to destroyed doors and mustard bottles.

Mordecai’s resentment led to a government official’s rage.

Haman’s resentment led to intended genocide.

No wonder Paul exhorts:

“Let all bitterness [a synonym for resentment] and wrath and anger and clamor and slander be put away from you, along with all malice.” – Ephesians 4:31

And this, from the author of Hebrews:

“See to it that no one fails to obtain the grace of God; that no “root of bitterness” springs up and causes trouble, and by it many become defiled….” – Hebrews 12:15