The Little Black Puppy
I’ve always loved dreams. Friends, family members, and clients often share theirs with me because they know I’m endlessly fascinated by the symbolic language of the night — and at least moderately skilled at interpreting it.
Recently, I had a dream about a little black puppy.
In the dream, I was preparing for a flight when someone asked if I could transport a small black puppy for them. They assured me that although it wasn’t ideal, I could tuck her into my checked luggage. I agreed. (Please don’t report my dream‑self to the authorities, and I promise not to report yours.)
The puppy was zipped into my suitcase and loaded onto the plane. When I retrieved my bag at baggage claim, I immediately unzipped it. The puppy was alive, but lethargic — overheated, distressed, and clearly in need of care. Before I could get her outside, she relieved herself all over the floor. Dreams can be so dramatic in the gross‑out department.
As I tended to her, an enormous dog appeared out of nowhere and swallowed her whole.
Now, you should know: I’m not naturally a “dog person.” I take excellent care of my husband’s two rescue dogs, but I didn’t grow up with animals, and as a recovering codependent, I don’t need more beings depending on me. So what happened next was wildly out of character.
I grabbed the big dog’s jaws, pried them open, and pushed its puppy‑filled mouth toward a pair of disembodied hands that appeared just in time to rescue her.
Sitting With the Dream
This dream arrived in a season of pure joy and gratitude — a time when life felt full of goodness, connection, and beauty. The dream didn’t match the moment, but I held it gently until my next session with my Spiritual Companion.
As we sat with it, something became clear: I felt responsible for saving that puppy.
As a recovering codependent, the impulse to rescue others is familiar. But the more we explored, the more obvious it became that I was the little black puppy — or at least a part of me was.
Many years ago, I walked through something deeply painful involving people I love. I worked hard to tend to the individuals and the relational system so we could move forward. What I didn’t do was tend to my own soul with the same devotion.
A part of me — the little black puppy — was zipped up, carried along, and technically “made it,” but she arrived needing care. Every time I tried to tend to her, something big would come along and pull my attention back to caring for others.
In the dream, the Holy Spirit showed me what I had forgotten: I am not the one who saves. I am the one who needs saving. I am the one who needs fierce love and tender care.
Receiving Fierce Mothering From God
Since this dream, I’ve been sitting each morning and receiving God as a Fierce Mother — a presence who tends to me with kindness, compassion, and healing. A presence who rescues the parts of me that were left behind, zipped up, or nearly devoured.
And now I wonder about you.
Is there a part of you that has been overlooked or carried along without care? A part that feels small, scared, or forgotten? A part that keeps getting swallowed by the needs of others?
Can you sit with that part? Can you allow God — as a real, loving, attentive presence — to tend to what is tender in you?
There is a little black puppy in all of us. And she deserves to be rescued, held, and fiercely loved.
