How God's Love Through A St. Bernard Helped Negate Jezebel/Narcissist

Note: I want to say at the onset that at different times in our lives God has different ways to help us.  God has used many animals in my life, and not all of them was I fully responsible for.  In this case, I was, and it was for that time of my life.  I enjoyed every part of it, including all the walks, feeding and cleanup, and it never once felt like a burden because having Samson was such a blessing.  I don't think it would have been the right thing for me (by myself without help from others) to be a full time dog owner prior to Samson or even after, now that he's gone.  I say this to say that it may be that God wants to also use a pet in your life, but pray it through because there's a season for everything and you want to make sure that you're in the right season and being led of the Lord for everything in your life. If it is the right time it will be a blessing without sorrow.  If not, it could be a burden.

This has been a tough week.  Samson's health got to a point where he was in just too much pain and could no longer get up, so I had him put down.

I languished over doing so as I had originally hoped he would just pass naturally.  I don't believe in euthanasia for people, and this certainly passed into my thinking about my beloved dog.

As I prayed about this I realized many things.  In the wild, as Samson had been addled and handicapped for almost a year, he would certainly have given way to death as he would no longer have been able to hunt and feed for himself, or defend himself from the elements and predators.  It's the interjection of human care that keeps domesticated animals alive longer than they otherwise would have lived.

And rightfully so.  We tamed them and brought them into our world, and they are our responsibility. We should look after them an extend their lives as long as possible.

The only loving thing to do is to take care of them the best we can.

As I was praying about having a change of heart toward this idea of putting him down, I kept saying to the Father, "Please, Father, You take him.  I don't want to do this of my own volition, especially if it's wrong to do so."  And then I was reminded from scripture that we are responsible, and indeed have been given dominion over the animals, and that their welfare is our domain.

We have been given the responsibility to make decisions like these with regard our animals, and in this case it was the responsible thing to end Samson's suffering, and that doing so wasn't the same as doing human euthanasia.  Of course, I wept that whole morning coming to this conclusion and even as I called the veterinarian, which Samson had not been to a vet's clinic NOT ONE TIME IN HIS WHOLE LIFE, I was still holding back tears as I did so. (God had taken such good care of Samson himself, and I see the same chemical big Pharma control of veterinary world that they wield over the medical.) 

So this was Samson's first time at a clinic. When we arrived, I unloaded the ramp we had been using for several years so he could more easily get in and out of the Suburban.  Jumping out to the ground was no longer a good option because for the last few years his hips and joints couldn't take the pounding.  He gingerly got out and immediately began sniffing around the building taking in all the pee smells of the manifold number of dogs who had been there before.  In that moment, focused as he was on the work of discovery, he seemed back to his old self, until his left hip again gave way and he did the twisting fall to a seated position he had done so many times in the last few months.   

About six months prior I had looked up a video on YouTube about how to massage a dog with hip issues that had helped Samson countless times to walk a little ways further after I would help him get up again.  So this one last time I massaged his legs and hips again and lifted him up, as he stood he was again seeking out those smells that so engulfed the air around him.

We were a little early and the nurse saw us and stuck her head out the door saying they could take us then if we wanted.  This was bittersweet as these were my last moments with him, to have them cut short seemed a bad choice, but he couldn't stand much longer and so I kept him moving inside.

In lifting Samson, I would do so by putting my fingers through his hair near his tail grabbing that hair that split my fingers as if they were handles.  I was always amazed that no hair ever came out when I did this, but in the last few weeks I often heard a cracking sound in his hips of that of a brittled, arthritic mess.  He was 93 at this point in human years.  As my dad always says, "getting old ain't for sissies," and his poor joints were whittled away.

At this point, the muscle in his rear quarters were also atrophied and he was much lighter back there, so he wasn't as heavy as he once was.   But I'm not going to lie, a few weeks ago I was out of position and could not use my legs to lift him and I tweaked my back.  Still feeling some residual of that, but I don't care.  He went through so much pain for me, it's the least I could do for him.

As we walked inside the clinic his olfactory sense was again overwhelmed with smells and he went around sniffing the lobby as he had outside, still limping as he went, but nevertheless fully occupied.  

He was also nervous.  I think he knew this was a place where dogs would be anxious to go,  such as what humans experience when going to the dentist. He was excited at the smells of the other dogs but still tentative about the purpose of such a place he had never been to before. 

We finally got inside and the vet saw his condition and said any of the type of steroidal medicine they could do for him would more than likely not bring the results for a dog that had made it three years beyond the normal life span of 8 to 10 years.  So, through tears and a nose fully congested, I made the decision to let him go.  I had already prayed so much prior and had felt in my spirit this was the right thing that I accepted his analysis without question.

At this point the vet had me and the nurse put him up on what was too small table and Samson was really uncomfortable.  I asked the nurse if we could put him on the floor and she said no so we left him up there.  Samson was breathing in a stressed way, most likely feeling as if he was going to fall off.  His paws were toward the inside of the table where his feet were blocked by the pillar of the mechanical table that had the motor in it to lift and lower.  The vet administered the sedative shot that would make him go to sleep and he and nurse left the room, saying I had about twelve minutes with him while he calmed down.  

With Samson's back toward me I pressed my stomach into him to make him feel stable as he could on that too small of a table, and I scratched his side and I couldn't stop saying, "I'm just so sorry buddy, so sorry," tears streaming from my face.

Him being on the table uncomfortable and feeling like he was falling for his last moment was awful.  If I had to do it again I would have insisted on him being on the floor at least.  I'm sure they were just thinking about how it would be difficult to later get him on the cart with which they would transport him out to my car.

It took a few minutes, but the sedative was taking its effect, and I could see Samson trying to fight it, trying to stay awake, I looked into his eyes and kissed him for the last time, while he was still with us a bit, crying vociferously as he went in and out of sleep, fighting it to the bitter end.

The vet, whose bedside manners would be more suitable for a prison guard at Shawshank (I found out later that nearly everyone in the county who has dealt with him says the same), came back in and gave me the option of staying for the final shot or going to the waiting room.  I asked what people normally do, and he said something to the effect of different people choose differently.  Tears still streaming down my face, and embarrassed a bit by his cold demeanor, I went ahead back to the waiting room, where the receptionist who had empathy at least asked me if I wanted some tissues.  The tears were the type where the harder you try to stop them, the more they flowed.

I took the tissues, but didn't use any. 

The nurse came out a few minutes later and asked me to drive the car around to the gate on the side of the building.

As I pulled the car around I saw her rolling  him out on the cart.  They had placed a trash bag over him up to his shoulders because they didn't have any bags big enough for him.  So I saw his head and his tongue just hanging out lifeless. 

He was gone.  My best friend was gone.

I backed the suburban up to the curb and the nurse and I lifted him into the back, where he fit perfectly.  5 feet wide by 4 feet deep. He took up the whole space.

I got in the car and began to drive out of the parking lot, wailing, almost yell crying. I kept telling Samson how sorry I was, for that ignominious ending, for anything I had ever done to him that was wrong in any way.  I had often repented to God in prior days how it is mankind who brought death on animals through our sin.  I was crying out about that again, and saying it was our doing that such a good creature should die when he had done no wrong.  This is on us and Satan and his fallen angels.  We chose this, not God.  Many people blame God for death, but we were the ones who chose it through sin.

Samson, as most good dogs I would imagine (not all are necessarily good), had hardly ever done anything wrong in his entire life.  St. Bernard's can be stubborn until you train them properly (which many people don't accomplish) as the breed is so big they are used to getting their own way.  I had done a training method from his puppy years that took care of that, sometimes I think a little too much.  But aside from some little moments of defiance or self-will early on, this dog had been so perfect he could make me feel guilt and shame for being any less than God calls us to be.

So I was just wailing and thinking also about how God had used Him in my life.  I have often said on the channel that I liked being alone with the Father.  And I do.  But to say that for the last 13 years I was alone, well, I can see now that was just a twisting of the facts to the extreme.  I may have been alone from people, but Samson was quite a bit better than most people.  Laugh out loud. I had more fun with him than 99% of the rest of humanity.  

There were times when I thought about when God created Adam, before Eve was created, and because of the traumatic relationship with many women I've experienced, I actually thought if I was Adam and had met all the animals and was asked if he wanted a wife, we all had been better off if he said no and God figured out another way to procreate.  I know that's evil and wrong, and I hope the women subscribers will forgive me for such a thought, but I'm just trying to get across the idea that if you take away the sex and procreation, a friendship with a loyal animal who will never betray or hurt you, well, you get what I mean.  I mean, that's why so many single women become, "cat ladies." Their cats are loyal (though independent) and loving, and sometimes, for a wounded one, that's more than enough.

With me having so many various doctrines and beliefs that differed from so many other Believers, having Samson was just the answer because there was nothing for us to disagree about.  And if he disagreed over something I was adamant about (which was hardly ever), I won, because I was the boss.  Still, he was so obedient and loved when I was pleased that honestly he just flowed with anything we did in perfect bliss.  

This is the way he looked at me:

If anyone, man, woman or beast looks at you like that, you might want to keep that being around.  It's no wonder I loved him so much and as many people thought, "spoiled" him.  Spoiling would mean that he didn't appreciate what I did for him and that he didn't reflect that care back to me and others.  He wasn't spoiled.   He was loved.

We were so bonded it's almost hard to explain.  St. Bernards are known to typically only seriously bond with one person, the owner (I didn't own him, he was on loan), and there is no question this was the case with us.  

And what this did for me, as someone feeling led to say many controversial things on my channel, things that would often generate hateful responses, was to think back at the naysayers, "I frankly don't care whatsoever what you think," (as long as I'm telling the truth), because 1) God approves and 2) I had that God kind of love in my life from Samson that didn't care that I honored the Sabbath, or didn't celebrate pagan holidays, or didn't go in steeple-topped pagan temples, or thought Paul the false apostle was Satan incarnate.  This love made it easier to say to the naysayers, as least in my heart, "do what you do and I'll just go spend time with this amazing creature."  

All Samson knew was that the fruit of what God had done in my life caused me to treat him as God would have me treat him, with tremendous love and respect.  Again, many people I think thought I gave Samson too much, that I spoiled him.  But I gave Samson what he gave me.  I took care of him and put him first because he did the same for me. 

I didn't really see the humans who may have been critical about me doing so putting in too much effort to do the same in my life. In most cases, how could they?  It's not that I didn't care about people, it's just that Samson cared about me ALL THE TIME.  He was my ride-dog, my roommate and I took care of him before people who didn't care too much about caring for me anyway.  Maybe I was wrong, or a bit overboard, but I don't think so. A righteous man cares about the life of his beast, and in my case, especially for one so loyal as Samson.

I remember way back in early spring of 2010 when he came into my life.  I was on Facebook and saw the posting of a member of the tennis club where I worked, that one of her co-workers at her office was giving away the last five puppies (three months old now) of a litter of seventeen (which is not unusual for Saints to have large litters).  I thought, "hmmm, St. Bernards..." wondering if I could even handle having a dog.  I had been really sick in the years prior and was only now getting back on my feet.  I had just got a new job teaching at this club and was renting a townhouse at a super reduced rate from another member of the club and was just able to pay my bills at that moment.  I was praying about the possibly of getting one of these five dogs and I was feeling led to do so.  I was a bit surprised at this leading and I asked the Father, "Can this be right? I can barely take care of myself, much less a dog the size of a St. Bernard."  I felt a response back in my spirit, "You mean to tell me you think I can't take care of both you AND A DOG???" And I laughed because though I didn't hear the voice I knew the tone of the impression I was having was mocking me in a nice way. Like you can't even trust God to take care of you and a dog???  I chuckle when I think about that moment to this day and slightly berate myself at the same time for not having the faith of a child.  Even though I had lost a lot through sickness and just being led to leave the business world at that point, I had always had enough for the day.  But what God does, when you add a responsibility of a dog (in my case) or even children, He provides more when those things arrive.   A lot of people think they can't afford to have children.  I've learned, with the provision you have now, it would be enough, but once you have the children, God will provide the extra provision. Like He did with the manna for the Hebrews in the desert. On Friday, He gave them enough for two days because they weren't supposed to collect it on the Sabbath.  God knows how to provide.

And so with my corrected ideas about provision with Samson's regard, I went to check these puppies out.  By the time I got to the house, there were only three left.  Samson, and I think one other male and one female.  The others had more regular markings on their faces, and Samson's mask was not typical, which may be why he hadn't been picked to that point.  But I chose him because he was the only one who came up to me and checked me out.  There was no way I would take one of the other two because they had all but ignored my presence.  I'm not saying they were rude, they were having fun together and that's their right.  But I was going to reward Samson because he made the effort.  This kindness and sense of manners Samson would exhibit that day he did his entire life.

If anything, Samson was EXTREMELY polite and noble.  He could make me feel rude, vulgar and low rent sometimes.  (I'm laughing as I write.) For example, as most dogs he would always greet you when you came home or into the house.  But what was interesting and maybe different about Samson was as soon as he finished eating, he would ALWAYS come to you afterwards and nuzzle on you as if to thank you for the meal.  

And when he dealt with other dogs, he would always start by exhibiting all the signs of friendship, a wagging tale, gleeful noises, or even those whimpering friendship calls if the other dog was leashed and couldn't come over, or even when some unleashed ones came over in an aggressive state.  With those dogs he would practically beg them to be friends until they attacked.  And attack they did.  He was attacked at least a dozen times in his life by smaller dogs.  Mostly pit bulls.  One Great Dane, one Rottweiler (the worst), an American Standard Poodle (they look prissy, but they are very uppity and Saints don't like their arrogance), and one boxer, but in the end it was the pit bull breed who most actively tried to attack Samson, probably because these dogs are every where.  And they are much smaller and perhaps didn't see Samson as a dog.  I don't know.  But only the puppy pit bulls Samson could be friends with.  The older ones had to test him.

Well, after Samson went through the process of trying to be friendly, they would ultimately attack and each one of these dogs (aside from the demonic Rottweiler) got their butts handed to them.  Samson was so fit from the two a day runs he had done nearly every day of his life until his latter years when he couldn't run anymore that these dogs who didn't exercise didn't stand a chance.  The Rottweiler would have lost too but during the initial burst he could hang because he was just so angry and was almost equal in size.  Thankfully his horrible owners finally got him away before any real damage was done to either dog.

The way that incident happened was our next door neighbor who owned the savage beast was washing his dog in their front yard (instead of the fenced back yard) and had him tied to a tent peg!!! As if that would hold him!!!  I knew when Samson and I were riding by and went back into the garage that something bad could happen and I got into the garage as quickly as possible, but no sooner had we gotten to the back toward the door that entered the kitchen that the Rottweiler came flying sideways into the front of the garage running toward us in the back.  I grabbed what was nearest, which was a flimsy umbrella to try to stave him off, but he easily breached that defense and engaged Samson, who I still had on the leash.

The rotty's middle aged and fat, out of shape owners finally arrive and the wife falls on the push mower and the husband tries to grab his dog.  When I saw him try to do so I grabbed Samson and pulled him back, but the fat, overweight weak, stupid owner of a rabid dog, slipped and fell back and didn't get a hold of his dog at all.  So that's when the Rottweiler was able to bite Samson on the cheek, the only blood that was drawn. So in a way I actually helped that dang Rotty bite my dog.  Finally the fat, overweight, out of shape owner got back up and was finally able to grab his dog away and exit the garage.

He should have washed that out of control beast in the back yard.  He had two Rottweilers back there and an Italian mastiff, all three of which wickedly barked at anyone who they could see outside of their cage and especially at Samson, and this man was stupid, yes, stupid, enough to tie an at least 120 pound Rotty to a tent post, as if that stood a chance of holding him, when he himself was puffy and out of shape like the Michelin man.  Those three massive dogs controlled him.  He was not the alpha, though he wanted to be. People like him use those breeds to try to make others afraid.  They don't know how to train or handle the dogs.  He couldn't handle one, much less three of them.  This clear makes me angry because it's cruel to the animals anyway.

But that dog was pure evil, and had no manners at least in the way Samson did.  And not all dog's are created equal, and most of that has to do with ownership and training, but some breeds have characteristics that are trained into their ancestry that the offspring naturally exhibit if the owners don't actively work against those negative traits in the breed.

But the only reason I mention all of this as pertains to Samson nobility was that he tried in every case TO BE FRIENDS first. He DID NOT WANT TO FIGHT.  He only did so when he was pressed.  My grandfather taught my dad when he was a boy that if another boy was trying to fight him to back off three times in an effort to de-escalate the tension, but if he comes again a fourth time, bash him in the nose.  Well, that's how Samson handled these situations.  Nice to a fault, but then came the Mike Tyson.  Those dogs always regretted tangling with him.  But as far as Samson was concerned it never needed to be that way. He was a peacemaker until they made him have to do otherwise.  But he always wanted peace.  I think this is also reflective of the Father, and He's been nice to us (nearly to a fault, though he can do not fault, I'm just using the expression), and now those of us who are not nice are going to get a can of whoop opened on them the like of which they have never seen.  They will be able to overcome the Saints first, after the first part of the tribulation and our testimony is over, but their win will be short-lived because only three and a half years remain and the vials of God's wrath will be poured out on them during that time.  None of them will escape.

Another aspect of Samson was his loyalty.  He was so loyal that if other people were petting him he would look at me to make sure it was ok, that I wasn't going to get jealous.  I would tell him, go ahead, share the love, it's good to share with as many as possible, and he would, but afterward he would always return to me to show me that for him, our love came first.

One of my songs, Six Questions, actually came from the loyalty he would show every time I returned home from work.  He would greet me at the door, practically jumping me (as many dogs do) excited to see me, and I would grab his cheeks in both hands and scratch his ears, proclaiming, "What have you been doing when I love you???" There was so much love in those moments that I couldn't help but think of the love of God, and then I thought about the questions he would ask us face to face when we greet Him.

I remember in the first year I had him, it was my birthday, and I went to a small mountain near Charlotte called, "Crowder's Mountain." We climbed the well worn path to the end where a rocky outcropping covered the peak.  I wanted to go on to the very top, which was only about another thirty yards or so, and told Samson to wait, as there was bit of a crevasse to jump.  I jumped it, and do you know that almost as soon as I did, he had jumped it as well and was right behind me?  I was so surprised.  I'm thinking that was my fortieth birthday and he wasn't even one yet, and doing leaps like that.  This act also reflected the loyalty and commitment to being together that he showed throughout his life.  He would jump many metaphorical crevasses to be together in the future.

But in the end, all of these expressions of love on Samson's part were from the Father, and it was the Father who brought him into my life in order to show me the love He has for us all as reflected in one of his His creations.

And the type of love a dog shows is the type of love a commandment keeping person gets from heaven.  As the scripture says,

Everyone seems to think that the unending and completely non-judgmental love a dog provides is the same as God's, not realizing that God is angry with the wicked and is in fact recompensing people according to their righteousness.  A good dog's behavior toward us reflects that type of merciful love God shows to those who are merciful, to those who keep the commandments.  But again, God's wrath is also part of his love, and while a dog's love is seemingly unconditional, God's IS MOST CERTAINLY NOT in the sense that if you go out in sin he's going to meet you at the door licking your face and loving on you.  If you sin, you can expect the consequences.

The other aspect of this, as shown in that awful Rottweiler, not all dogs are good.  And yes, some are even demonized.  God led me to pray deliverance and healing over Samson and myself often so there was good reason for us both to be operating in love on most occasions. This didn't happen by accident but through God exhibiting His Kingdom through the prayers and spiritual warfare He led me to pray to keep us both safe and protected.

I remember when my son's mother got pregnant she told me I would have to get rid of Samson. I laugh now at the thought.  She was hiding behind the possibility of danger to the baby or her, which could seem a legitimate concern with a large breed.  But Jezebel/Narcissists use such a ploy whenever they can.  They try to remove a source of love behind the veil of seemingly reasonable request.  They hate love and unity of any kind, and this is why they ALWAYS isolate their victims from anything good and try to be rid of the source of true love.  

Samson was no threat as is exhibited in this pic with a dear friend's baby, he was practically pure gold around her (look how she's smiling, she loved him so much) and spent the night in the same house with that baby and multiple hours around the baby while she was in her chair which was ON THE FLOOR, like this:

The baby's parents were so unconcerned, we went to see them again when they had moved to another state, and we stayed in their small country house AGAIN with the baby, now a little bigger and crawling around while she played with Samson the whole time.

So even when my son's mother said that to me, I thought, "not gonna happen." But I did consider making him an outside dog, which, as anyone who knows about St. Bernards knows they get incredible separation anxiety when they are not with the pack, and this would literally have broken his heart, which as a Jezebel/Narcissist, this would still be a good outcome for her.  To get her way by abusing one of the most amazing dogs of all time.  Just a wicked witch on every level. The very fact that she would demand such a thing when it was completely unnecessary just showed the control demon at work in her.

That's one thing I repented to Samson about, that I had exposed a creature so good as him to someone so evil as her.  I truly regret that.  That he had to spend any time in the presence of such evil as her and her awful mother.  Samson and her were so completely opposite in nature as much as the Father is from Satan himself.  My son's mother came but for to steal, kill and destroy as a Satanic minion (who has stolen my son to this day), while Samson came to bring joy and life and light from the Father, and to act as an opposing force to her hatred and evil.  

And this is one of the major reasons why I think God brought Samson into my life, even prior to me meeting my son's mother.  God knew what I would have to face: the loss, not only of her (as false a relationship as it was, I still loved her), but of the son we would bring into the world.  Many a man has self-deleted over less, and even as the people around me could only be so much support (most victims of this level of evil have a hard time finding people to talk to that can even process in any way what has happened to them). Samson's presence in my life, the love and the daily routine, well, that kept me stable and grounded.  This dog was God's love in my life when no other person could really understand or commiserate. I really didn't find any other people who could really understand until I started the channel, and then come to find out, there were thousands of you.

And maybe God timed this change perfectly as well, that Samson now being gone, I can now form closer relationships with other people.  Samson having done his part to get me to this point, that that the love God showed me through him got me here, stable again and able to help others, and maybe be part of family now, to have a wife, and kids, or be a part of a family of Believers.

I've flown solo for so long in being a Batchelor as it were, but I surely wasn't alone the years I spent with Samson.  He was the best possible friend I could have had in those moments.  Maybe now I won't fly so solo with regard to people?  Maybe, just maybe, even though we are entering the worst moments of history, under the shadow of God's wing I can be involved with other like minded people who love God and can exhibit the love of God toward each other that Jesus asked us to do so in his final talk with the apostles.

I want to trust like that.  I dare say the only one (outside of the Father and His Son Jesus Christ) in this world that I did trust like that was Samson.  I have friends but they have lives and you can't be with them all the time.   Family is the next best thing.  Or groups of Believers.  I have a hope that all of us who flee to the shadow of God's wing during this time will be there together in these last days, and the true followers of Christ will not be betrayers, such as many of us have dealt with our entire lives with regard to Narcissist Jezebels.  Will there be Judases among us?  I don't know, but I do have have a hope that those of us who have decided to love God with all our hearts, minds, souls, and strengths will do so and that this love will bleed over to each other.  The only way that can happen is if we keep God's commandments.  That's my hope and prayer.  I think that's what's next for me but I am so grateful that God saw fit to give me so much time in this life with such an amazing creature as Samson, who exhibited God's love in so many ways.  I will never forget him and I know I'll see him again as long as I stay the course. For now Samson has his crown.  Well done, my friend, I give you the highest grade possible for your performance in my life.  You endured so much for me.  I can't wait to see you again.  Have fun in the heavenlies with the Father, the Son and all those of the Kingdom of Heaven.  May they all be as blessed by you as I was, my dearest friend.