July 29, 2024 - #mondaymoment #dogs #cats #pets
Happy Monday, my friends! If you follow me on Facebook or Instagram, you know that last Wednesday I met and formally adopted a small puppy named Scout. While the adoption is complete, I’m leaving tomorrow for a trip to Providence, RI, and Scout won’t join me in Westerville until early next week. To say I’m excited for his arrival would be an understatement. One of the volunteers at the rescue took one look at me and said, “You grew up with dogs and you’re excited for this one.” My first pet was Benson, an aging and mostly reclusive feline who my mother had gotten sometime before my parents were married. My first dog was Paws, a mix of several breeds, named by me because of her white paws on her otherwise black coat. Paws wasn’t a particularly playful dog, but she would indulge her small humans in limited cuddle time. When I was in kindergarten we got Tasha, a purebred Golden Retriever and the daughter of Shamrock and Dancer, whose humans were close family friends. In memory Tasha was perfect, but she often followed the bad behavior of her older sister Paws. Yet, Tasha was my boyhood dog and she adapted wonderfully to me and to my sister, becoming the quintessential childhood companion for us
Next came Butterfinger, a lovely black-and-white cat who had a bit of the personality of both cat and dog. I regret that I wasn’t at an age when I could appreciate his dynamic character because he was a great pet. I can’t remember how long it was after we got Butterfinger that we added Zowie and Bowie, two more cats, to the family. Our large house in a small town (without a fenced-in backyard) began to feel small with four humans, three cats, and two dogs, but there was a lot of love to go around. The chronology is fuzzy about what happened next, but once Paws passed away and perhaps Butterfinger as well, my mom gave my dad and sister permission to look for another dog. They came home with Sadie and Sophie, two supposedly purebred Golden Retrievers. As they got only a few months older it became evident that they were not purebred, but that didn’t matter to us. Sadie would unfortunately not live long, but Sophie became our family’s long-term pet through the grief of Tasha’s death and then into my parents’ early experience of having an empty nest. As Sophie got older my parents adopted Annabelle (“Annie”), a black lab with an English Mastiff grandfather. Though her bark was vicious, and she had enormous paws, she would run and hide from any animal or human. She was my mom’s dog and would rarely leave her side. I only really knew Annie during trips home from graduate school and jobs, but Annie was a very kind dog.
Only a few weeks before I was forced to return to Ohio because of my case of long COVID, my parents adopted Maggie Jo. Maggie is a beautiful black lap and Rottweiler mix and though loud, is one of the sweetest dogs we’ve had. Maggie seems to know when people are hurting and clings to them. Though she is definitely my dad’s dog, she helped me through the crisis of long COVID and then finding a new job. There have been other dogs in my life including my furry cousins Reggie and Marley, my aunt’s two rescue dogs, and my furry nephews Bogey and Dodger, my sister, brother-in-law, and nephew’s dogs. To say nothing of our neighborhood cat, Tiger, and the fabled Sewanee dogs, said to be the reincarnations of Sewanee professors and Episcopal bishops. All those dogs bring me to Scout, the charming little terrier mix with whom I’ve already fallen in love.
At 37 years old, a Queer man, and a person with limited dating experience, I doubt that I will ever have children of my own. Don’t get me wrong, I would welcome the opportunity to adopt a child, be a stepparent, or otherwise be some sort of parent, but I’m not sure that will happen (as always, if you know of or are an emotionally available, single, man who likes men, let’s talk. I’m told I’m a catch.) So instead of focusing on human children, I choose to focus on my new furry son, Scout (whose pictures will be all over social media soon), my nephew, Jack, who most of you already know through photos and Monday Moments, and the children of my friends. If it takes a village to raise children, then I want to be part of that village for my friends and family. I want them to know that I’m a safe and affirming person for their children (human and animal). I want them to know that they can come sit on my porch, drink tea, pet Scout, bring their furry friends, and feel safe. The Beloved Community and the Kin-dom of God is an endless neighborhood of houses as diverse as the people who inhabit them with big front porches where hot tea, iced tea, and lemonade never run out, and children and pets are safe, welcomed, and affirmed at every house.
Who have your pets been? What have pets and other animals taught you?
Let us pray: God, bless all our pets. Bless the pets who were in our homes before we were born and those that joined us later. Bless the pets that helped teach us responsibility and the pets who added more work for our parents. Bless the pets who comforted us and the pets who needed our comfort. Bless the pets who live outside, the ones who are pets for the whole neighborhood, or are pets only because we see them often. Bless the pets who have yet to come into our lives and the pets waiting for a human and a home. Bless animals who never find a home or whose home doesn’t respect their uniqueness and worth. Gracious Jesus, who was welcomed on earth by animals in the manger, bless all of us as we work towards your Kin-dom where peace, love, and affirmation truly reign. Amen.
Blessings on your weeks, my friends! Please let me know if there is anything I can do for you.
Faithfully,
Ben
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