Most Reverend Jerome E. Listecki
Archbishop of Milwaukee
 

Many priests who, at one time or another, have found themselves in a grammar school classroom will usually be confronted with a question by a young child. “Father, will I see my dog in heaven?” This is usually not a philosophical inquiry as to the nature of the soul, but rather reflects the fact that the child has suffered the loss of a family pet. I have been asked that question by adults who were attached to their favorite, furry friend. Will I experience my dog in heaven? A response which made sense to me was, “If heaven is perfect happiness and that happiness is dependent on the experience of Fido, then you will experience Fido again, for nothing which is held by God is ever lost.” 

Society will often categorize individuals into dog lovers or cat lovers, as if they can’t coexist. I think it is related to being raised in a house that had cats or dogs. I was raised in a home that always had a pet dog. They were like family, and the shock of their demise sent the family into mourning for days.

There is no doubt that pets are like family. We hold them in the highest esteem. Neither Rin Tin Tin nor Lassie would be worthy of a straight up trade. My dog is the best, and whether he really is or not, is irrelevant. He is my dog. In a similar manner, we feel that way about our priests, our doctors and our teachers. They are the best because they belong to us. 

The names we use to identify our pets are also interesting. Unless you are part of the breeds of the Westminster Dog Show, with such names as Marmaduke III or Chauncey of Newcastle, most names are mundane. My family was fixated on the letter 'B' for all of our dogs – Blackie, Bobo, Buzzi, Buster, Betsy and Buddy. I would always smile when I went to the vet’s office and the receptionist would call out, “Bobo Listecki, next.”

There have been a number of dog books. Most recently was W. Bruce Cameron’s A Dog’s Purpose (2010), which was made into a movie that interestingly depicted the reincarnation of a dog’s life, as told from the dog’s perspective, trying to reunite him with the boy of his initial connection. When we recreate the dog to have a human persona, inevitably the dog loses because we project what we want the dog to feel. It makes us feel better, even if the dog has no sense of this inter-relational connection. 

A book I really enjoyed, and would recommend to most dog lovers, is Dean Koontz’s A Big Little Life (2009). It doesn’t try to make the dog a human, but rather celebrates how we, in our own sense, humanize the dog as a family member. Dean Koontz, well-known for his books about the macabre (ala Stephen King), treats this story of his dog, Trixie, with the gentility of a father who has adopted Trixie into his family circle.

Of course, there is the classic dog movie Old Yeller, which was shown when I was a grammar school boy to our entire school. The tragic end of the movie left one boy so upset that his crying was heard and witnessed by the other 500 students. The sisters were right there to console the grieving tyke, trying to assure him that it was just a movie. 

Of one thing I am certain is that St. Francis of Assisi would have supported dog and cat lovers. These animals, our pets, ironically make us more human and remind us of the beauty of God’s creation. Perhaps, by extending our sensitivity to our four-legged pets, we might be reminded to act with greater consideration toward our two-legged brothers and sisters. After all, we are commanded to LOVE ONE ANOTHER. 

Note: This blog originally appeared as the April 25, 2017 "Love One Another" email sent to Catholics throughout the Archdiocese of Milwaukee by Archbishop Jerome E. Listecki. If you are interested in signing up for these email messages, please click here.