Annie’s New Bed

A wise woman builds her home, but a foolish woman tears it down with her own hands.

GREG AND MEGAN were taken aback when they walked into their central Florida home. The floors of the kitchen and family room were covered in what looked like mounds of snow.

“Um . . . is that—” Megan began, stopping herself before asking the question. There was no way it had snowed inside their house, in the middle of summer, in Florida.

Greg grabbed a handful of the soft white substance.

“Annie,” he called. “Come here.”

Greg and Megan’s seven-year-old corgi emerged from the back bedroom of their ranch-style home. She walked tentatively, as if she were stepping on eggshells, with her head nearly touching the floor and her tail drooping behind her.

“Annie, what did you do?” Megan asked.

The couple quickly began taking inventory.

The sofa was still intact.

The pillows were all in place.

Their master-bedroom door was still shut.

And Annie’s toy bin was filled only with tennis balls and rubber toys. She wasn’t allowed to have any stuffed toys because she always destroyed them. Every time Megan was tempted to buy a cute stuffed toy, Greg would tell her she might as well just hand the dog the cash and let her eat the money instead.

What had Annie destroyed?

“In here,” Greg called from the back bedroom.

There, in the middle of the floor, were the shredded remnants of Annie’s brand-new dog bed. It had been an expensive orthopedic bed Megan had purchased after Annie’s last checkup when the vet mentioned his concern about Annie’s stiff joints. The vet had recommended a supplement and a quality supportive bed.

Last night was the first time Annie had slept on the bed. And Megan felt confident the splurge was worth it.

Until now.

“Ugh, Annie! That bed was supposed to help you feel better,” Megan groaned. “And it was so expensive . . .”

Megan and Greg cleaned up the debris before turning in for the night.

Days later, when Annie started limping after playing at the park, Megan went to the pet store to buy another, less expensive bed.

Annie slept all night on the memory foam bed.

She napped on it the next day.

After the third day without a shredding incident, Megan told Greg, “I think we have a winner!”

Until she came home that evening to more piles of foam.

“Oh, my word, Annie,” Megan said. “Why do you insist on destroying your beds? I’m only trying to make you comfortable.”

As Megan filled the trash with chunks of foam, her mind began to race, searching for solutions. Do they make dog beds from Kevlar? Can you coat one in Teflon? How can I teach Annie to stop chewing her bed so she can enjoy its long-term benefits?

Just then, Annie came bounding around the corner—a chunk of foam held firmly between her teeth. Clearly wanting to play with her new “toy,” Annie play-bowed to Megan.

“Oh, Annie,” Megan chuckled, grabbing a treat from the counter and trading the morsel for the foam. “Maybe I should see if dog beds come wrapped in chain mail!”

PAWS & PONDER . . .

In what ways might a foolish woman tear down her house? Why do you think the phrase “with her own hands” was included in the proverb? In what ways does a wise woman build her house? What else might the term house mean in the verse? How can you guard yourself against tearing down your house with your own hands?

Paws & Pray

Lord, so often I choose temporary pleasure over long-lasting benefits or eternal rewards. I get so caught up running after the things of this world that I forget you are the only one who can truly satisfy the deepest longing of my heart. God, fill my mind with an awareness of you so that I can be strong when I am tempted.