Dog Blessings
Page 6
Oh, those first sniffs at the bushes! Ah, that first whiff of green grass. Always we go the first couple of houses with his nose buried in the delicious smells of the neighborhood. Then, as we approach the mini-park, he stops and looks back at me. “Isn’t this great?” he asks, tail wagging. “Can you believe it’s all still here?”
I don’t know which was harder to believe that morning. That the Twin Towers were gone, that the seemingly impregnable Pentagon walls had been breached. Unbelievable! Or was it even more unbelievable what Pepper told me that morning? That it—the grass, the bushes, the familiar smells and stops along our regular morning route, it was all still there in all its glory.
Pepper doesn’t know much about terrorism or foreign policy. But what he does know is that all that was right and wonderful and dependable about our life on September 10th is still here. He knows it because of his enthusiasm for life—his ability to embody the indwelling of goodness and rightness. He teaches me, every morning, a most important lesson: be uncomplicated, be genuine, be glad to be alive. Because (sniff) it’s all still here!
Reverend Roberta Finkelstein
Reflections About Dogs
If you don’t own a dog, at least one, there is not necessarily anything wrong with you, but there may be something wrong with your life.
Roger Caras
I have sometimes thought of the final cause of dogs having such short lives and I am quite satisfied it is in compassion to the human race; for if we suffer so much in losing a dog after an acquaintance of ten or twelve years, what would it be if they were to live double that time?
Sir Walter Scott
No matter how little money and how few possessions you own, having a dog makes you rich.
Louis Sabin
No one appreciates the very special genius of your conversation as much as the dog does.
Christopher Morley
If your dog doesn’t like someone, you probably shouldn’t either.
Author unknown
Dogs are not our whole lives, but they make our lives whole.
Roger Caras
There’s just something about dogs that makes you feel good. You come home, they’re thrilled to see you. They’re good for the ego.
Janet Schnellman
The Blessing
She was taken from a wild pack in Queens. Something indefinable about her kept the ASPCA officers from euthanizing her right away.* And then, realizing she was not vicious and that she was pregnant, they asked my friend Erika (who used to work at the ASPCA) if she would foster this shepherd-chow mix until the pups were born and weaned, warning her not to get attached; a dog with her history almost always has to be put down.
Erika named her Zoë, found homes for all her puppies, and together, they went to class: obedience, advanced obedience, agility, and all the courses required for Zoë to be certified as a therapy dog.
They could now make regular visits to a retirement home for priests. The priests and the nurses were all happy to see this beautiful dog. Even the old fellow who, when she first started visiting, would dash into his room and slam the door, yelling, “I like cats!” He was won over when Erika told him that Zoë liked cats, too—she lived with four of them.
One of the residents was confined to a wheelchair and, because of Alzheimer’s, lost to the world around him. The nurses told Erika that he spent most days screaming. No one could reach him anymore—except Zoë.
When he saw her coming toward him down the corridor, he became quiet and recognition would light his eyes. When she rested her muzzle on his knee, he stroked her head and spoke her name. In her presence, he experienced a glimmer of lucidity, a moment of connection and peace.
This is a dog blessing a priest.
Paulette Callen
* The packs must be culled periodically; if they get too large they become dangerous. Most of the dogs captured must be euthanized because they are diseased or too wild to be adopted out (no facilities to care for feral dogs exist in New York).
Doggy Prayer
I am grateful, my four-legged friend,
for shared treasures—earth, sky, and sea,
for shared pleasure—a winter’s nap, a frolic,
a drink from a mountain spring.
While you do not speak my language,
nor I your guttural tongue,
I know that you, too, feel our spirits
merging into One.
I offer you this blessing
as you face the setting sun:
May you always know adventure
and the peace of going home.
Kate Robinson
Dog Owner’s Prayer
Lord, thank you for this ornery mutt
who thinks I’m royalty and more.
Bless wag of tail, each woof and bark,
each mark of slobber on the door.
Once house and rugs were fragrance free.
Keep me mindful of those days:
No welcome whiff of doggy breath,
no Eau du After Rain to praise.
Restore my grateful, patient heart
for this, the dearest of ankle-nippers,
and keep me ever-watchful, Lord—
at least until I find my slippers.
Sandra Soli
A Blessing
Though it was a quiet Sunday afternoon the park was spilling over with people and dogs. Dewey, still a pup, put his paws up on the dashboard to see what was going on, just as I spotted a sign that read Blessing of the Animals.
The park was embellished with newly fallen leaves that glowed like the amber-colored stained glass in the church’s high windows. As I stepped onto the lawn and saw two-leggeds and four-leggeds moving in tandem over the rounded hills, I felt like we’d wandered into the Garden of Eden.
In that moment, which felt like a long-forgotten memory, I could see how animals embody love. They snuggle up against us at night, or bump us with a wet nose for a pat. The dogs we care for remind us of our connection with the Earth—the here and now. They pull ahead, snout pressed to the turf, as we dangle from the other end of a leash. And we are stopped temporarily in our busy tracks as they sniff the grass around a street sign. They get us down on the floor to romp with a tug toy, and whether it’s in a twentieth floor condominium or a one-story rambler we’re closer to the Earth beneath us.
The celebration of life that they model every day helps us remember that we too can live in the present moment. Like St. Francis, with birds perched on his hands and foxes at his feet, we have the potential to become one with all creation.
Milissa Link
Prayer for My Best Friend
Bless his nose, so wet and cold
Bless his fur, so soft to hold.
Bless his tail, it wags so strong
When I tell him he may come along.
Bless those ears that stand so stout
Except when one’s turned inside out.
Bless those eyes so filled with love
That surely comes from God above.
For up in Heaven the Angels sing,
They fly with harps on silver wings.
But here on Earth there can be no doubt,
The Angels bark as they run about.
Brennan Boyle, age 12
Dog Blessing
We pray to you God, our Creator, to bless our dogs with Your radiant light and love. May our animal friends have good health, happy lives, and always be protected and safe.
We ask for better understanding as we learn from our dogs’ wisdom, their innocence, their loyalty, and particularly their seeming ability to not judge human beings unkindly.
Thank you for the pleasures, playfulness, and sometimes the surprising humor our pets display.
Thank you for their compani
onship and friendship especially for those lonely hours we may have experienced.
Thank you for our companions’ natural ability to teach us to be aware of the present moment.
Thank you for the pure beauty of every dog—their form, color, texture, motion is all a work of art, and may we appreciate Your creation of this masterpiece.
Bless all dogs in harm’s way, heal the sick, protect those who are lost and guide them to safety.
Thank you for the gift of love. Amen.
Reverend Phyllis Ann Min
Voices from the Shelter
(These are impressions of dogs I met while volunteering at
an animal shelter.)
I’m young and handsome and full of life,
Jumping and barking. I have so much to say!
A wire cage is no place for me! Can’t you see that?
I would add so much to your life.
Give me a chance! Take me! Take me!
I’m not so handsome as the others, I’m far from perfect,
But they tell me that’s just because I wasn’t fed right.
I’m better now. Look, I can almost stand upright.
See how hard I try? I’ll be the best dog once I’m well.
I’ll soon be able to walk beside you, perhaps even run in front of you.
Inside, I’m the same kind of dog as all the others. I want what they want.
Do you want me? Take me!
I’ve been around the block a time or two,
Perhaps even three or four.
I may not have that many more spins in me, but I’m still here.
I’ll wait for my drink, thankful that someone remembered
To put a rug in the bottom of my cage.
That’s a comfort to old bones.
I can’t see as well as I once did, but I can see a kind face
And sense at least a passing interest in me.
I won’t rattle the bars, takes too much energy.
But I’ll wag my tail for you to remind you
That someone once loved me very much, and I him,
And I still have love to give. Do you need some? Take me.
Rusty Hancock
3 A.M. Feeding
Zeke grumbles and nudges
my door. Then I hear his claws
tapping toward my bed.
In the wash of moonlight
his black face gleams level with mine,
the large jaw politely closed, the eyes wide open.
I know what he wants. Yesterday
he found a nest of kittens on the side of the road
and though I can’t hear them mewing, he can.
I’m too old for this, I think
as I throw on a robe and heat a cup of milk.
What am I doing saving cats
the world has too many of anyway?
The scraps of fur are trembling
on their skinny legs. It’s all they can do
to hold up the globe of their heads.
Their eyes are oozing, swollen shut.
Two take the dropper, but the smallest
doesn’t want to eat at all, opens
her mouth only to cry. Her tongue
is the size of a baby’s thumbnail,
and petal thin. I pry apart
the tiny splinter teeth and squirt a little milk,
most of which leaks back out. Meanwhile
Zeke is in the zone, nabbing
each one as it wobbles, blindly
into his sphere. He’s serene
as a massive star, culling stray bits of matter
that wander into his gravitational field.
One at a time, he pins them with a leaden
paw and sets about their baths
with his dry, relentless tongue.
He’s been at it all day, trotting
back and forth, a zealous waiter,
anxious to bring whatever’s required.
As I top off the last kitten, Zeke
goes at the bottoms of the others, as their mother
would do, urging them to deliver,
licking up the miniature excretions.
And when they’re all finally settled
in the great warm arc of his body, he sighs
and lets his eyelids drift down with satisfaction.
I shuffle back to bed with a prayer:
Let me be like Zeke. Let me rush
to each moment with his devotion,
eager to lick even the underside of life.
Ellen Bass
I Depend on You
I depend on you to feed me
substantially each day.
And when I am not sleeping
to know it’s time to play.
I depend on you to pet me
when I nuzzle up your hand.
And accept my sloppy kisses
for the back rubs I demand.
I depend on you to walk with me
several times each day
to limber up our aging bones
that splinter and decay.
I depend on you to squeeze me
quite often ’round my neck
and roughly scratch behind my ears
and give my nose a peck.
But when my happy time is gone
or should you hear me cry . . .
I depend on you to love me most
when it’s time to say goodbye.
Mary Lenore Quigley
I Have Brought My Dogs to the Woods
It is autumn, and one of them, the big red male,
runs on ahead, rushing and leaping
up and down the decorated hills,
black tongue trembling, eyes rolling in his head.
But the other, the little one, the half-blind female,
sticks close to my heels, so that when I slow,
even a little, she stumbles into me,
and when I stop, she looks up at me
with her one good eye, and smiles.
Above my head I hear the sound of going,
and looking up, I see the high tops of the white oaks
bow, as though a presence travels by.
A shard splits off the sun, drops through the trees,
and sets the fallen leaves ablaze with shattered light.
Then I lift up my voice and say,
It is good to be here, to be rushing, wild, exultant,
or to be stumbling, smiling, only half blind.
Joanna Catherine Scott
Lessons
If I greeted everyone happily
Instead of eyeing with distrust
If I didn’t pass judgment
But accepted all
If I listened intently
With understanding in my eyes
If I brought comfort
All the time, no matter what
If I loved unconditionally
Without reservation
If I lived life more simply
Instead of worrying so much
If I played tirelessly
And didn’t work so hard
If I made people smile
Just by my presence in the room
If I experienced true joy
At the little things in life
Then I’d be the perfect friend
Just like my dog.
Joanne Hirase-Stacey
Dogs as Spiritual Messengers
I believe all creatures are God’s masterpieces, but I also think most members of the human race could use some spiritual touching up by the artist. Dogs definitely play a part as spiritual messengers to help with that touch-up.
Dogs are healers. They are enlightened. They seem to have figured out how to live beautifully so much better than we humans have. While we struggle to figure out why we were put here on Earth, all a dog wants is to love and be loved—a powerful lesson for us all.
Bernie Siegel
Author Index
Arbogast, Joan Marie, 29
Bass, Ellen, 22, 126
Beecher, Henry Ward, 25
Billings, Josh, 66
Boutté, Ann Reisfeld, 75
Boyle, Brennan, 122
Bunch, Susanne Wiggins, 4, 43
Butler, Samuel, 48
Callen, Paulette, 116
Caras, Roger, 112
Cherry, Kelly, 9
Clark, Sally, 76
Cole, SuzAnne C., 18
Connors, Ginny Lowe, 23
Crooker, Barbara, 95
Davis, Jill Frances, 61
Dordal, Lisa, 20, 60
Dwyer, Kate, 51, 69
Esser, Joanne, 14
Farringer, Janice A., 37
Finkelstein, Reverend Roberta, 110
Follett, CB, 6, 10
Gibson, Cleveland W., 65
Graham, Taylor, 74
Guest, Edgar A., 44
Hancock, Rusty, 124
Hay, C. David, 68, 86, 89
Hill, Gene, 28, 66
Hirase-Stacey, Joanne, 130
Hirshland, Christine Otto, 34
Johnson, Meridian, 2
Jones, Franklin P., 25
Koefod, Susan, 56
Kolosso, Judy, 87
Krauser, Susan A., 58
Leinwoll, Stanley, 48
Levine, Arlene Gay, 57, 103
Liehr, Sonya R., 35
Link, Milissa, 120
Lombard, Janet, 50
Lorenz, Konrad, 48
Maebori, Donna J., 70
Mandell, Arlene L., 80
Markus, Peter, 104
Martin, Lynn, 38
McCrady, Anne, 88
Messinger, Nancy A., 40
Min, Reverend Phyllis Ann, 123
Moncrief, Reverend Gloria S., 96
Moore, Laura E., 92
Morley, Christopher, 113
Nelson, Eric, 3