Dog Theology, part 4: Chaplain Dog

Here' sthe third installment in my ongoing series titled Dog Theology. (See parts one and two.)

Last night Dakota got loose. It's not unusual for me to let her outside to use the facilities without a leash. She typically stays close and comes back in once she's done. But for some reason, last night she ran off.

To make a long story short, I went out in the cold wearing athletic shorts, sandals and a winter coat. Daddy was not happy. After searching for several minutes I finally spotted her trotting happily down the sidewalk toward me two buildings over.

I leashed and spanked her (yes, we spank in my house!), and she timidly followed by my side back to our apartment like an inmate walking death row. Inside, I put her in the pin which has been retro-fitted with metal bars and looks like puppy prison.

Several minutes later, I came around the corner and found Lola lying faithfully in front of the crate as if to keep her company while incarcerated. "What a good chaplain dog," I thought, "she's simply being present with Dakota." I have opportunity to learn from this dim-witted doggy.

There's a lot to be said for simply being present with someone as I visit in hospital rooms. By present, I don't mean only there physically in the room. But when chaplains talk about being present with someone we try to be presently aware of a person's suffering and fears. We try to give them words to claim their pain and permission to ask tough spiritual questions or to doubt.

For me, to be present with someone is to let him know that he is valued and that he is known. There is power in being known by other people; some would say that the deepest level of intimacy between two people is to know and be fully known by the other. It's a gift that we are able to give hospital patients which they're probably not looking for. Perhaps that why we call it being present, because it's such a gift.

Lola was being present with Dakota, because when Dakota is in the slammer Lola has no play buddy, and thus she was sad. Lola was present with her big sissy, and this K-9 example may further teach me to be present with those who suffer, with those I meet daily, and to be present with you.