I am going to tell you a story about the spirituality of dogs, a story of grief and loss and ritual.
She wasn’t our first dog nor was she our first Border Collie. We were not looking for another Border Collie even though I had heard of a breeder in Cowichan Station who bred Border Collies. I had said I wasn’t going to look but my wife encouraged me to go. Not something you should do if you don’t want a puppy in your life! We went up to have a look. She was the smallest in the litter and the only female. She climbed onto my knee for a lovely cuddle. This was the beginning of a 13-year journey. They say Border Collies are one-person dogs; she was. She was spoiled, stubborn, strong, and extremely bright - too bright without an off-switch when it came to playing with a ball or frisbee. Her name was Moraig, (Gaelic for Star of the Sea).
The only time she sat close to anyone else was prior to a death in the family. She would join my wife on the chair or sofa where she was sitting. We commented on how unusual this was. We could not understand why she was doing this until we went over to my wife’s mother’s house and discovered that her mother had died.
Moraig and I spent our days playing and travelling together. Up and down the Island we had places where we would stop to play frisbee and ball. She visited every parish in our diocese.
During COVID we decided that we would like another dog so we started looking for a small dog and settled on a male Bichon Shih Tzu. He arrived and was named Padraig (Irish for Patrick). He entered the house full of vim and vigour. Moraig was aloof and distant, however, the day came when she could no longer hold out. They became the best of friends and played together whenever we were home.
Late in 2022 I noticed that Moraig was sleeping a lot. She still seemed to have some energy and strength to chase a ball or frisbee. I realized that she would go out to play because she thought I needed her to do that for me. I had also noticed that she had lost a lot of weight. I took her to the Vets and they said she was a very sick dog and that I had a decision to make. On the day she died I took her to the park at sunrise and we played before I drove her to the Vets. They were very caring and understanding. I hand fed her some treats as I had done when she was a puppy during our last minutes together. She eventually turned away; the vet administered the necessary drugs and she died.
After Moraig died Padraig became lethargic and grieved her loss. One day however something remarkable happened. He went around the back yard and gathered up all her balls. There were about 5 or 6 in various places - under plants, by lawn chairs and in different corners of the garden.
He gathered them all onto the deck, laid down and inspected each one. After a period of time he rose and came into the house having done homage to his friend and mentor: a ritual of remembrance.
Now retired, Bishop Logan McMenamie, lives in Saanichton BC
You can read more articles on our interfaith blog, Spiritually Speaking at /blogs/spiritually-speaking
* This article was published in the print edition of the Times 91原创 on Saturday, July 13th 2024
