After my parents got married, they moved to a small house which meant they had to part with their Alsatian dog. They gave it to a friend. Weeks later, sometime after midnight my father heard a noise outside the hall door. The dog had found her way back home having walked approximately eight kilometres through a built-up urban area.
We had two dogs at home when I was growing up. The first was a terrier and the second a Labrador, Perty and Denver respectively. I was very small when we had Perty but Denver was around when I was in secondary school and into adulthood.
After a gap of about 25 years Jessie came into my life and we were the best of friends. At the time I was working at the Kerryman newspaper and living in West Kerry. I got her from a friend when she was a young dog. We had great times together and the two of us walked all over Kerry, Kildare and Limerick. My most recent dog Tess, another Labrador, came into my possession when a couple I know broke up. Tess died about two years ago of old age. Since then I have been without a dog, and I have never owned a cat.
I have great childhood memories of how Perty and Denver were loved in our home. And I have the fondest of memories of Jessie and Tess. When I see a family, especially a family with young children, with a dog of any shape, size or breed, I’m reminded of the dogs I have had. I remember my father saying that if a person is kind and nice to an animal, they will also be kind and nice to humans. Anyone who has had a dog as a pet will know the bonds of love and affection that develop between the person and the dog.
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Over time all those dogs went missing, especially Tess. She had a knack of disappearing into the long grass and she could go missing – sometimes for well over an hour. I would be in a state of panic and consternation, thinking the worst, either she had been run over or had simply got lost. Without fail, she always turned up. And that look on her face, as bold as brass. I would be angry with her, but the anger was quickly overtaken by relief and love to have her back. While I can’t speak for Tess and her predecessors, I can well imagine they were well pleased to be back home, whatever “divilment” they had indulged in for the previous hour or so.
When I read tomorrow’s Gospel story about the lost sheep, I was reminded of all the times my dogs went missing but how eventually they always found their way home. The Gospel (Luke 15: 1-10) contains the well-known stories of the lost sheep and the woman who finds the lost coin. Imagine, that sheep is just one of 100 and the coin one of 10, yet there is such joy in finding the sheep and the coin. Luke uses the parables to explain how “there is rejoicing among the angels of God over one repentant sinner”.
I have no trouble at this stage in my life of saying I have little understanding of God. Much of what I learned in theology has little meaning or relevance for me today. My faith is weak, I struggle with trying to put a shape on God. But I hope, and yes, I believe in God, a God who has mercy and love for all of us. That God is “over the moon” when the lost, the marginalised, the “non-believers”, the stragglers, those who have no time for authority, those who are tired and banjaxed, those who have been hurt by the establishment and all other forms of oppression, turn up at God’s door and smile.
It is near impossible for us to paint a picture of God. God’s love is beyond our understanding. When I recall the incredible relief I experienced when my “urchins” turned up with their tails between their legs maybe I get the tiniest glimpse of what it might be like when I become aware of the presence of God. And that’s after God has welcomed me home.