A guest post written by Kendall Tuchkova

Occasionally, I walk my neighbor’s dog. Despite being what one might consider an older dog, almost everyone that we encounter on our walks comments on how youthful he looks and how much energy he has. I often find myself pulled alongside him as he bounds across the street to explore some new smell. It is always a joy to take these walks, and I find my step springing lighter when I am with this dog.

For Memorial Day weekend, my neighbor had planned to go out of town and leave her dog under my care. The week before her trip, however, she mentioned that her dog wasn’t feeling well. She had taken him to the vet, and he appeared to have pancreatitis. She was worried about him but decided to go on the trip anyway, and left me with specific instructions as to what to feed him and whom to call if there were any problems.

The change in this dog’s behavior was immediately noticeable. He walked much slower, seemed to tire much sooner, and would not eat anything. To the human sense, something was certainly wrong. Having been raised in Christian Science, however, I had learned that the material picture does not tell the whole story. The true picture of man – you, me, this dog – is as the image and likeness of God. In Science and Health with Key to the Scriptures, Mary Baker Eddy defines God as good and good as infinite. She also writes, “God is All-in-all.” So, I reasoned, if this dog reflects good and good is all there is, then nothing can interrupt that goodness or take it away; it is permanent. As I cared for the dog that weekend, I continually affirmed this truth, turning my thought toward the joyful, energetic, youthful image of this dog I had always seen before.

Within 24 hours, the dog’s demeanor began to change. He came a bit quicker when called, walked a little farther when outside, and gobbled up his food with a gusto I’d never seen. By the time my friend returned home, there was no indication of any illness. In fact, after walking in her door, she texted me, “My boy is going crazy, running around the house like a madman. He’s a whole new dog.”

“That’s great!” I replied. “But, I thought that is who he always was.”

“Yes,” she wrote back. “It is.”