Learning
about God from our pets
a reflection for the feast of St. Francis, Oct 4
by Tom Dermody
"A person could learn a
lot from a dog, even a loopy one like ours."
John Grogan, a columnist for
The Philadelphia Inquirer, penned those words just days after the death of his
family’s Labrador retriever named Marley. His loving farewell to a drooling
dynamo of a dog touched universal sentiments among pet owners.
"Marley taught me about
living each day with unbridled exuberance and joy," he wrote in the
"Mostly," continued
Grogan, "he taught me about friendship and selflessness and, above all
else, unwavering loyalty."
The story of his dog’s death
would change Grogan’s life. On the day the column appeared he received 800
e-mails or phone calls, about 30 times the usual reaction. He
developed its themes into what has become one of this decade’s most popular books,
"Marley & Me: Life and Love with the World’s Worst Dog."
The popularity of
"Marley" underscores one reason why St. Francis of
Francis is the patron saint
of animals.
In a nation where, at last
count, there are 90 million cats, 74 million dogs, and millions more birds,
fish, reptiles, and assorted small animals sharing life under our roofs, it’s
no wonder so many relate to Francis’ description of God’s creatures as our "brothers
and sisters." Count me among them. Unfortunately, all too soon I will have
to bid farewell to my own four-legged, furry friend, a Shetland Sheepdog named Angie. She is nearly 13, Marley’s age when he
died. And like Marley near the end, Angie has gone deaf and sleeps most of the
day. The most telling sign of what’s ahead? Angie no longer wants to go on the
nightly neighborhood walk she used to demand. Memories of Angie’s role in our
family could fill a book, too. But instead of composing a farewell after
Angie’s inevitable passing, I’m going to celebrate her life now by expanding on
the truth Grogan raised in his column.
Not only can a person learn a
lot about life from a pet, a person can learn a lot about God.
Throughout Angie’s life I’ve
received glimpses of unconditional love, unbridled joy, and comforting presence
when I am troubled. As odd as it may sound, I picture God as happy and excited
to see me arrive at Mass or adoration hour as Angie is when I come home from
work. She prances and spins with glee. And those late-night
walks! Those quiet strolls through the neighborhood often became golden periods
of evening prayer. I find the canopy of moon and stars as inspiring as any
cathedral. As we trod silently beneath it, Angie would sniff every new smell,
while my thoughts turned to the vastness of God’s creation. The pondering of
heaven also inspired nightly prayers for my late parents and other family and
friends who had died or are now separated by miles. Without Angie’s insistence
to walk, I likely would have chosen a mindless television reality show over the
wondrous reality waiting outside my door.
One of St. Francis’ most
famous sermons was reportedly given to a flock of birds. Passing trees full of
them, Francis left his friar companions and urged the birds to praise their
Creator who "protects and governs you without any solicitude on your
part."
As we approach St. Francis’
feast day on Oct. 4 – a day when many Catholic parishes schedule blessings of
pets – I suggest that pets and all of God’s creatures are blessings. I’m
grateful for all that these brothers and sisters offer and teach us, especially
a few sermons modeled by a great dog with the world’s worst breath.
Tom Dermody is
editor-in-chief of The Catholic Post, newspaper of the
Diocese of Peoria, Ill.