Spike, My Catholic Dog

Before Pixie came into my life, I owned  Spike, an energetic, naughty Doberman.  I love him dearly, and, in spite of my husband's best efforts, Spike was my dog, and a very good Catholic dog.

Spike loved his bling.  Normally, you would find him with his collar, tags, and an assorted scarf or two.  He would get very upset if his bling was taken away from him.  He'd come to me crying if someone took his scarf and put it in the washer.  He was just that kind of dog.

He was my dog.  We would walk 4 miles in an hour on an almost daily basis.  I was much thinner then and in great shape!  We had to get that energy out of Spike because he was so naughty if he didn't have his daily walk.  Even during the coldest winters, I would come home covered in sweat after our walks.  He moved at such a good pace.  He was better than a gym membership!

When Spike didn't get his walks in, and even when he did, he could be very naughty!  He would find any socks that he could get out of the laundry and bury them in the nearest plant.  He'd steal any food that he could find on any counter or table in the house.  He'd jump on the bed and mess it up just because he could.  If his food dish wasn't full at all times, he'd knock it over and demand more food.

When he was naughty, and he knew this was coming, he'd run.  He knew that the spray bottle was not far behind.  Spike would run ahead of the water that was spraying out of the spray bottle.  Then he'd bark at me as if to mock me.  He was naughty.

Then Spike showed me that he was a good Catholic dog.   If I was blessing the house with holy water, which I kept in an identical spray bottle as the punishing water, Spike would visibly relax and sit while I sprayed the Holy Water around the house.  He wouldn't run and he wouldn't bark.   He would sit calmly and quietly as the water sprayed on him and around him.  The bottles were identical, but he knew the difference.  He was such a special dog!

When it was time for prayers, Spike would see me kneeling in prayer against the bed.  He would come up behind me, put his paws on the bed, and remain with me while I prayed the rosary.  He was very good and very quiet during prayer time.

The rest of the time, when he wasn't walking, he would demand my attention or he would be very naughty.  It was that simple, but when I shared time with God, Spike was like an angel.  He would sit quietly and wait for me to finish my prayers.  He would not run from the holy water.  He was a good boy during prayer time.

Every night, I blessed Spike with holy water.  I made a cross on his forehead and thanked God for the gift of this wonderful dog.  Spike would sit or lie down comfortably so that he could receive his nightly blessing.  He was not a naughty dog when it came to prayer, sacramentals, or his nightly blessing. 

As with the rest of us, Spike grew old and frail.  I had to take him to the vet at the end of summer.  I came home, but he didn't.  He was 13 years old.  He was a good dog.  I still, after 5.5 years, miss him terribly. 

Pixie came into my life 3 weeks later, and for this time in my life, she is the perfect dog.  Like all things and seasons, there is a reason.  Pixie is not as good a Catholic as Spike was, but she is a good girl, she's just not my Catholic Spike.

For everything there is a season, and a time for every matter under heaven:

a time to be born, and a time to die;
a time to plant, and a time to pluck up what is planted; a time to kill, and a time to heal;
a time to break down, and a time to build up;a time to weep, and a time to laugh;
a time to mourn, and a time to dance;a time to throw away stones, and a time to gather stones together;
a time to embrace, and a time to refrain from embracing; a time to seek, and a time to lose;
a time to keep, and a time to throw away; a time to tear, and a time to sew;
a time to keep silence, and a time to speak; a time to love, and a time to hate;
a time for war, and a time for peace.

 Ecclesiastes 3: 1-8