by Debra K. Farrington

Tom came to our church on a Tuesday night, a stranger to us that first evening, because he’d read in the newspaper that we were blessing the animals. His cat had been put down a month ago, and he was still grieving deeply.

He hoped to find in us a community that understood his pain. A truck driver, he’d found no one to talk to in the weeks since his cat died. Everyone he knew thought either that it was silly to grieve for a cat or that he should have gotten over it long ago.

My friend Melissa credits her dog with saving her sanity, if not her life. In the midst of a horrendous family crisis that involved not only emotional betrayal but also financial disaster, Melissa opened her doors to a dog who stuck with her day and night. She had a supportive human community surrounding her with prayers and comfort, but it was with her canine companion that she found the deepest solace.

Neither of these stories is unusual. Many people who grieve the loss of beloved companion animals do so in silence for fear that other people will think they’re childish if they mourn openly. Others turn to pets for comfort in times of sorrow or trouble. Often that’s not done consciously; animals seem to sense distress in people they know well, and respond by curling up close, staying nearby, or through some other response that comforts us.

It is one thing to know intellectually that God is with us in the midst of suffering, but God’s presence is often made evident in the bond between people and their beloved animal companions, especially in times of need. The deep affection we have for one another speaks of God’s presence and love for all of us, human and animal alike.

No fear of "paw in mouth"
The domestic animals we invite into our homes often love us unconditionally, in good times and bad. And it is in the midst of those bad times that this unconditional love — the kind of love God has for us — reaches us most powerfully. When we are hurt or grieving, animals don’t ask the wrong questions or say the wrong thing. Neither your cat nor your dog will say something like, "It’s for the best," or "God must be testing you," or any of those other unhelpful things. Your guinea pig won’t tell you that you’re being childish or to just get on with your life. They simply stay quietly with us and allow us to feel whatever we’re feeling at the moment. Like God, they are a non-anxious presence, and that is so important when we are troubled.

And when we are at our best, we remember that we, too, are called to be the presence of God for our animals. God made, loves, and cares for all the creatures, and called us to watch over them (see Genesis 1:28). Watching over our pets includes being present to them when they are suffering. A few months ago I found blood on the bathroom floor late at night, and went looking for the creature it came from. We have seven cats and a dog, so tracking each one down and checking them out can take time and effort, especially      with felines. When cats are ill they hide, and my hurting calico, Gabi, was doing just that.

When we finally found her, we discovered that she had a bleeding sore on her bottom; an infected anal gland had burst and she was very uncomfortable. I spoke to the emergency vet and followed his instructions to clean her up and make her as comfortable as possible until morning. It was my turn, that night, to be a non–anxious presence, and offer Gabi whatever comfort I could.

A friend of mine found a way to convey God’s presence and love to her cat as he was dying. She knew he didn’t have long, and one night she sat with him and read to him the evening prayer service. That night she told him how much he meant to her, that she loved him, and that if it was time for him to go, that was all right. Her cat died quietly in his sleep that night.

Plenty of scritches to go around
Animals also grieve when faced with loss, a fact that sometimes goes unnoticed. A couple of years ago, a friend had to euthanize his dog, Max. The dog’s feline companion, Kit, wouldn’t come into the house for two weeks. Kit and Max had slept next to each other on the same bed for years, and Kit mourned Max deeply. We would go find Kit and make sure he was all right, and spend time petting him, but we also had to respect his decision not to come inside so he could grieve in his own space, away from us.

Some people find the attention given to animals in distress to be at best sentimental, and at worst, an irresponsible use of our resources. People ask, "How can you worry so much about animals when there are starving people in [name a country]?" The assumption behind the question is that there is only so much love and so many resources to go around, and that anything we do to help animals takes love and resources away from people. I think Jesus argues otherwise. When the disciples wanted to send the 5,000 people away to find food for themselves, Jesus insisted that there was enough to go around. The disciples assumed scarcity of resources and compassion, while Jesus assumed abundance. My care for animals doesn’t prevent me from giving time and money to organizations that help people. There is enough to go around, and then some.

Caring for one another in the midst of suffering is a privilege and a gift. When we are present to the suffering of another person or an animal, we are a living reminder that God — alive in each and every creature — is present in every moment of our lives, as much on a glorious spring day as on the most troubled day of your life. When we allow others to care for us — be they human beings or one of God’s other creatures — we receive the gift of God’s presence as well. My cat’s purr speaks to me of the peace of the Lord as much as passing the peace at worship does. And though my cat doesn’t understand the words, I hope my scritch under her chin does the same for her.

Debra Farrington is a speaker and retreat leader, and the author of eight books of Christian spirituality, including All God’s Creatures: The Blessing of Animal Companions. See her Web site, www.debrafarrington.com

CARE FOR THE ANIMALS AND THE PEOPLE WHO OWN THEM
Tom, who was grieving the loss of his dog, came to our church because of our program that cares for pet–owning parishioners in crisis. The original idea of the program was to offer volunteer pet care for parishioners in any family crisis. For example, if a parishioner had to tend to a family member in the hospital, a volunteer would care for their pets so they could focus on urgent needs. The program was so popular that we had a flood of volunteers — more than we’ll ever need, God willing.

We expanded the ministry, and now our volunteers call on parishioners who have very sick animals or whose pet has died. We send condolence cards, offer pastoral care, and our prayerful presence, as well as a booklet of prayers for sick animals and for burying or memorializing pets who have died.

The program wasn’t intended as evangelism or outreach, but our willingness to acknowledge God’s loving concern for people and animals has brought many new people to our door.

Please contact me through my Web site (www.debrafarrington.com) for information on beginning such a ministry in your own church.