What’s Your Collar?

As you may have already guessed, this is another weekly email where I find a way to intertwine a story about our dog Annie. I’m sure there is some deep-seated issue to why I try to interpret public policy issues through the life of my dog, but we’ll leave that discussion for another time. What I want to focus on is Annie’s collar.

There is really nothing special about her collar. It’s red, has a few tags on it, and I attached an AirTag not long ago in a profound exercise of fanciful thinking that we could track her if she ever got out. It makes for a nice ornament on her collar, regardless. What’s most interesting about Annie’s collar is what it does to her when it’s taken off or put back on. This struck me again tonight as I took her collar off to wash the dirt and grime off it.

As I removed her collar, she became agitated. She started acting nervous, looking around, and nuzzled my hand holding the collar. I washed it in the sink, and all the while she stood right next to me watching. As soon as I dried it and sat back down, there she was, bumping into me to get my attention. She wanted the collar back on. As soon as I put it on her, she settled down and is now sleeping at my feet.

I regard her reaction to the collar as a holdover from when she was a rescue. She was clearly someone’s dog – she knows commands, listens carefully, understands that she shouldn’t repeat actions that get a “No”, etc. What I believe happened was that when she became pregnant with her puppies, the owners abandoned her. When they left her, they removed her collar. She was found wandering with two pups in tow and without a collar.

Now, this is just my guess at what happened, but we’ve had many dogs over the years, and none of them ever wanted the collar on, but always loved having it off. I feel sorry for Annie and what that moment must have been like for her. The final act that would forever be connected to the loss of her home and her “pack”.

I believe we all have collars of a sort. We all have things that make us feel good, while all the time they really enslave us. Perhaps it’s that new car you love, but constantly worry will get dinged in a parking lot. Or maybe it’s the attention one gets from an abusive home environment. A job that we like doing, but which slowly wears us down because of the toxic environment at our employer. I’m sure there are many more examples, but I think you get my point.

 I find that the world of public policy also has its collars. The need to prove that something bad is happening before making a law to address it (i.e., prevention is often not a familiar concept). We sometimes put up with the collars of letting bad laws get written into the Century Code because some law addressing an issue is better than none, right? It’s not just legislators, either, but those of us who lobby have our own collars. I sometimes see myself momentarily tempted to take the easy public policy approach, just to “get the win” and claim victory on some issue. Thankfully, that is not our calling or how we operate, but it sure would feel good, once in a while, to pick the easy issues.

Collars and their control over us can sometimes last a lifetime, as I’m sure it will with Annie. I wish I could help her get over her fear, but only she can do that. In the same way, you and I are the only ones who can take the first steps in shedding the collars holding us back and enslaving us.

So let’s be brave, acknowledge our collars, and ask God to help us shed them. Let’s not live in fear, but trust that God knows what’s best for us when He asks us to remove our collar. He doesn’t want us to be that lonely, unloved dog wandering the streets, but instead wants us to be safe and secure in the warmth of His love. We are part of His pack, and He’ll never abandon us.