I was talking to two of my fellow staff ministers as we were about to enter the church office. A young man stepped toward me and spoke, "Pastor, may I speak to you a moment?" "Of course," I said. I looked at him. He was wearing shorts and a tee shirt and running shoes -- standard fare for our Pasadena neighborhood. With him was a large shepherd-like dog on a leash. "Pastor, would you bless my dog?" he asked. I must have paused. I had never in all my years been called on to bless an animal, but there was a look of pleading in his eyes. I turned to the dog who regarded me with disinterest. I took hold of his muzzle with one hand and formed a cross of blessing in the name of the Father, Son and Holy Spirit with my other hand. Then I patted the animal on the head, and turned my attention back to the young man. "Tell me about your dog," I said. It seemed to me that he had been crying; now his eyes filled with tears. "He has an incurable disease. He is in a lot of pain. This afternoon, I am taking him to the vet to be put to sleep." He sobbed a moment and went on. "We have been together for eighteen years." He raised his eyes to mine. I didn't know what to say, so I just nodded. There we stood, the three of us, for a moment. I put my hand on his left shoulder and with my right hand made the sign of the cross before him. "I bless you also, in the name of the Father, Son and Holy Spirit, and pray that God will be with you through your sorrow." He smiled, called the dog by name, and slowly they walked off toward a car parked at the curb. Surely, I thought to myself, God must have a place in His heaven where friends like that can be together. (All rights reserved.) | 