It seems we dogs are now officially classified as “distractions from family, faith, and God”, sharing a sin-bin with televisions, radios and pop music. The Bretheren have been told they might be “minded to rehome” their four-legged companions.
At my age, the theological opinions of any institution that ranks a retriever alongside a transistor radio barely qualifies as requiring a response.
But “distractions?” I have spent a lifetime keeping The Boss grounded. Whenever he sits at his desk looking important, a damp nose to the elbow or a sloppy jowl on his knee acts as an immediate corrective, reminding him of his true, humble place in the universe — primarily as a dispenser of ear scratches. If that isn't a spiritual service, I don't know what is.
Of course, this isn't the first time human orthodoxy has tried to dispense with man’s best friend, and history shows it usually signals that the humans in question have lost their collective marbles.
Take Pope Gregory IX back in the 13th century. He didn't target dogs initially; he issued a papal bull declaring black cats to be instruments of Satan. The dutiful medieval populace enthusiastically eliminated the feline population, which was a roaring success until the rat population exploded, the plague arrived and the Black Death took out between a third and a half of Europe’s population. One can only assume the Almighty was watching that particular piece of theological brilliance with a hand over His eyes.
Then there was Chairman Mao’s ‘Four Pests’ campaign in the 1950s, operating on similar logic if a rather different theology — though Communism certainly demanded its own blind faith. The Great Helmsman declared that sparrows, rats, flies and mosquitoes were ideological deviations. The Chinese wiped out the sparrows, which led to a catastrophic plague of locusts that ate the crops. It turns out that when humans try to mould nature to fit their rigid doctrines, nature has a way of biting back. Hard.
The Brethren’s decree states that while pets are out, livestock is still perfectly acceptable. Chickens, ducks and cows are deemed pious enough because they provide eggs, meat and milk. A dog, by contrast, offering companionship and loyalty, is apparently spiritually insolvent.
I must ask: has anyone ever received spiritual enlightenment from a duck? Have the Brethren ever looked into the vacant, cud-chewing eyes of a dairy cow and felt a profound connection to the sublime? A chicken will peck at its own shadow and run in circles at the slightest breeze. Yet, a loyal retriever, sitting steadfastly by your side through thick and thin, offering unconditional affection without a single care for your doctrinal purity, is deemed a spiritual hazard.
If the Brethren truly want to rid themselves of distractions to find peace, they are looking in the wrong direction. They can ban the wireless, they can turn off the telly and they can rehome the spaniels.
But they will find that the creature most likely to lead a person away from humility, patience and an honest reckoning with their own failings is not the one wagging its tail by the back door. It’s usually the creature looking right back at them from the bathroom mirror. Woof!
