While out walking in my neighborhood this morning, I passed a house with a large shady back yard. For many years, an old dog lived at the edge of that yard, chained up next to a doghouse. I remember passing by him when my children were young and how he would wag his tail gratefully when I stopped to speak to him. I never got close enough to pet him since I did not want to trespass, but I always wished I could. He looked lonely out there day after day, year after year until finally, one day I noticed he was gone and presumed that he had died.
Eventually, the people who lived there moved on and new owners moved in.
Today, in almost the exact spot where that dog was chained, there is a statue of St. Francis of Assisi, lover of animals. The current owners of the house have two feisty little dogs who frolic freely around the yard on nice days. Sometimes, when I pass the house and the dogs are not out, I can hear them barking from inside the house where they live with their family, warm and loved. And sometimes, when I hear them, as I did this morning, I think I can feel the spirit of that old dog, alive in them, warm and loved and finally free.
Sometimes when I think of my ancestors, and all the other people who lived and struggled and died before I ever arrived on earth, I picture them cheering for me. I feel connected to them in the same way that I feel that the spirit of that old dog is connected to the new dogs now living in that yard. I feel that those who came before me sympathize with my struggles and celebrate my every moment of freedom and joy.
I was raised in the Catholic faith, and there is a doctrine in that faith which is called “the communion of saints”. The doctrine teaches that the souls of all the faithful on earth are bound together with all those in heaven in a kind of spiritual solidarity. Although I don’t believe in all the doctrines passed down by the Catholic church, I do believe in the communion of saints. I believe in the communion of saints and sinners and people of all faiths, and people of no particular faith. I believe in the communion of the past and the present and the future. I believe in the communion of trees and ants and birds and worms and roses and weeds.
I believe in the communion of dogs.
Comments