THE LITTLE DOG

I recently saw a little dog that reminded me of our last little dog: Annie. She was a thirteen-pound Rat Terrier and spoiled rotten and wonderful and we cooked special chicken for her. She lived with us almost 14 years and has now been dead for almost eight years and we still think of her often and grieve over her. I don’t think all grief ever goes away, or should. As I thought about this I was reminded of a C.S. Lewis quote:

“I will never laugh at anyone for grieving over a loved beast. I think God wants us to love Him more, not to love creatures (even animals) less. We love everything in one way too much (i.e., at the expense of our love for Him), but in another way we love every- thing too little. No person, animal, flower, or even pebble has ever been loved too much—i.e., more than every one of God’s works deserves.”

I’m not sure where Lewis’ line must have developed ‘on laughing at someone grieving over a loved animal’ but it borders on sadism, barbarous and insanity. We have asked each other (and others have asked us) if we are going to get another Little Dog. No, we say. Don’t know if we could take that again.
I can easily confess that I have grieved less for most humans than I have for The Little Dog.

“They are blessed who grieve, for God will comfort them.” Jesus