all hallow's eve

St. Aidan of Lindasfarne.  Aidan, with the original meaning of “little fiery one,” known for his itinerant preaching and constructing of churches, made a perfect Scottish name for our own Shetland Sheepdog.

He’s been a little fiery one—ask anyone who’s tried to pet him!  When Banu and I spent a year with my mother in Tennessee when she had health issues, he would growl at my sister’s car when he recognized it parked in the street outside.  Now that’s too “fiery”!

I understand a dog doesn’t need to be saved from sin the way we poor sad humans need, but “hallowed” might describe the way he and other of our fellow animal sisters and brothers exist.

Maybe we can celebrate, and beg forgiveness for, our relationship with for critters with Aidan and all the rest of God’s good creation.

not yet, little critter

Not yet, little Aidan.  It wasn’t very long after we had to euthanize Duncan, our Sheltie who had nearly lived a life of fifteen years, that my wife was lobbying for another canine.  At first, I resisted.  I wasn’t ready to welcome another dog, let alone another Shetland Sheepdog (forgive us, but we like that breed), into our home—and truth be told, into my heart.

But the fates be damned, I went along with it.

I knew I couldn’t refer to Aidan as “the prince,” as I had Duncan.  The only thing that came to mind was “the critter.”  And maybe it seemed right at the time, and I still think it’s right.  Aidan is the critter.  He was born exactly one week after Duncan passed from this realm into the next.  October 24 will be his seventh birthday, about half as long as our previous pup walked the earth.  If it feels like I’m speaking in the past tense regarding Aidan, well a diagnosis of lymphoma will do that.  (Well, a somewhat 95% verdict of the vet who examined him will do that!)

But he ain’t dead yet.  (I think that’s the only time I’ve written or spoken the non-word “ain’t” ever!)

Of course, miracles happen.  And prayers will rise like incense, as the book of Revelation says are the “golden bowls of incense, which are the prayers of the saints” (5:8).  We’ve said a big fat “no” to chemotherapy; we’re going with acupuncture and Chinese herbs.  Cannabis oil may play a role in his therapy, as well.

If this post seems like self-indulgence, so be it.  But for anyone who’s ever loved a dog (or a cat, for that matter), maybe you understand what I’m saying—and feeling.

Still, not yet, little critter.