Howls From The Founder
Victoria is the seventh dog who has shared her life with Sandy and me. They all came to us as eight-week old puppies and have lived to respectable ages. None of the others has been particularly religious. Tori’s theology, however, was apparent from her first day in our house. She was a serious and thoughtful Golden Retriever pup. She learned her commands easily, but made it a point to hesitate just a bit before obeying. She had to ask why. Many of us have had children like that.
It really began with butterflies. Tori was born in April and joined our family in June, when the gardens were full of these spastic, colorful pixies. She was enraptured. She pounced, stumbled, and wobbled after them from flower to flower, as they floated like bits of confetti on the swirling breezes in the backyard. She sought the sweetish scent they left on stems and branches to attract mates. We never saw her try to catch a butterfly, but that was not her goal. They were not prey. Her interest was spiritual.
Tori in her butterfly garden. Photo: Dorothy Mattesen Drobney
Our pudgy little puppy developed a rotund kind of grace just as the baby birds were leaving their nests. Those budding aviators very quickly became masters of the sky. Dozens of them raced over, under, and through the rhododendrons. They zipped between the forsythia and hydrangea faster than her eyes could hope to follow. Tori was dazzled, and forever after bewitched by things in the sky. There were lone hawks and gangs of turkey vultures coasting overhead. Her attention was captured by helicopters thunderously marching, and airplanes quietly creeping across the clouds high above her. At night she sat outside, following the lights to and from the airport. The moon and stars and planets claimed their share of her wonder. She could clearly see and sometimes hear these things, yet her most dependable faculty was stymied. She could not smell them. This was profoundly puzzling to the pup’s core philosophy.
Early religions were conceived to provide answers to mysteries such as these. The answers were not necessarily comforting. They endowed their Gods with some of the basest of human qualities, and some of the most worthy. They peopled the night sky with constellations, star pictures of humans elevated by Gods to lofty seats in the heavens, as reward for heroic deeds. People worshipped these Gods to appease them, and to petition their protection from calamities that threatened mankind. The ability to enrich human life and light the path to a more noble heart had to wait until mere survival was more certain.
The God of Judaism, Islam and Christianity was masculine and eternal, omnipotent and omniscient. He created the universe and ruled it. He could be both angry and benevolent, a check on the best and worst of human nature. He relied on his prophets to instruct adherents how to live good lives.
None of these human deities appealed to Tori. Strictly speaking, Victoria is a Pagan. She believes that all the objects in her universe, animate or inanimate, have souls like hers. Actually, it is more accurate to say that all share a single, common soul. Every mud puddle, every little pool in the smallest brook, every river, lake, and ocean wave can serve as her baptismal basin. She happily slurps the blood of the Earth from the streams, takes communion by chewing beatifically on the fallen limbs and peeled bark of the trees in the forest. She climbs every boulder in the woods to enjoy the vista, convinced she can better see and hear her Almighty from on high. She attempts to suck the flavor of the ancients from the river rocks in our landscaping. Animals wild and domestic are all potential playmates, a belief that recently earned her a woodchuck bite and forced her older brother to shake the poor creature to death in retaliation. Of course she loves people. She also loves the car that takes her to hike, and the refrigerator that provides snacks afterward. She honors the cans which hold her wet food and carrots. She genuflects to the bags that deliver kibble and treats. For Tori, these things all share the common soul.
Tori will sometimes pray with people she meets. Whether they actually need or want this ministry is not overly important to her. She sits in front of them, balanced on her ample haunches, and places her paws in their hands or on their forearms. Then she will often grunt with quiet satisfaction and gratitude, in much the same way she does when being handfed little pieces of leftover steak.
Photo: Sandra Lok
Certainly this seems a religious viewpoint to me, and I’m sure is to Tori, although adherents of more complex denominations will think that an overly generous judgment. It evokes for her an influence that clearly orders the picture of her life as she lives it. When people conjure the image of such powers in their mind’s eye they imagine beings in human form.
Depicting a creator in your own image requires a level of conceit that no dog I’ve ever known possesses. Dogs are profoundly humble, and truly generous. They happily share their toys and treats, balls and affection. Some humans look in a mirror and marvel at how handsome and able is the fellow they see. A dog looks in the mirror and remembers that the stuck up pooch there has always refused to play with her. If you believe you share a soul with all of the animate and inanimate objects in your world, arrogance must be a rather empty concept.
In human relationships I think it is unusual for love of another to surpass love of self, possibly excepting some parents and children. I don’t know anyone who would claim that cats are more concerned with your wellbeing than theirs. Rabbits and Guinea Pigs display only shallow concern for human caretakers. I doubt that their devotion lies deeper than the last leaf of lettuce you fed them. Your dog, however, always cares for you more than she does herself, whether you live in a mansion or a cardboard box.
I think this is the secret of our canines’ most important and endearing trait. No creature is more devoted than your dog. She truly does love you without condition or curb. This esteem is more important to your satisfaction than all the rings, trophies, medals and prizes ever awarded. She is the idol I hope each day to emulate with all the creatures I may encounter. We know that time and possessions are fleeting. The way we treat other lives which we meet is baked forever into our ashes. This becomes clearer the nearer we get to the end of our days. Dogs were born knowing it.
We made a pact with each of our dogs when they first joined the family. They will love us and we will love them, forever. They fill our lives with hugs and smiles. We spoil them shamelessly. It is a simple bargain. We pledge this knowing full well that we will have to watch them die. Their forever is painfully shorter than ours. Anyone who has loved a dog knows the hardest thing is to decide to help her pass over the rainbow bridge, when the quality of life needle tips negative beyond any point of return.
Photo: Sandra Lok
Still, I believe that there is something harder. It is quite possible that our youngest dog may outlive us. Seven dog lives can equal one human life. We call the last dog’s life the Seventh Forever. It could be Tori’s burden, and ours.
Where will Tori go if we are gone? Surely no one else would fulfill our part of the forever contract. We can’t believe anyone else could love her as much, could spoil her like we do, like she deserves. Who else would brave any weather to ensure she gets her daily hike in the woods? Who else will bake chicken breasts and cube them for her favorite treats, or play the games she loves? Who will snuggle with her at the end of the day in front of the television? Will she be forced to say goodbye to her brothers? How could anyone else adopt three such deeply bonded dogs? How could anyone separate them?
I probably should not worry. Dogs find love without looking for it. I know they did with me.
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