GOD SPELLED BACKWARDS – A Schnauzer’s Prayer

My dog prays. Every day. To God.

How do I know this? Okay, I’m not saying Sylvia sits up, puts her front paw pads together and recites her Glory Be's. No, the way I know is that she’s actually asked for a little help.

So, every morning, right after breakfast, I grab my coffee, plop down in my easy chair and Sylvie—our precious miniature schnauzer—hops up in my lap. She turns and looks up at me expectantly until I start.

            …and oh, my God, those real bones
            with meat on them!

That’s not the only reason I know about Sylvie's spiritual side. I can see it in the way she interacts with me and the rest of her world. Always in the moment, one with her environment; does love like no human being I’ve ever known; and, though she might appear to take everything for granted, just exudes gratitude, for even the smallest things.

Unlike us human beings, who’ve managed to complicate our connection to the divine with our own conceits, that of animals is just a straight-up, no-pretensions conduit of love.

So of course she wants to pray. Granted, she only has about a 50-word vocabulary and has trouble pronouncing even those few words. So that’s where I come in. I provide the lap…and the voice. Now you may think it’s just my own voice, my own ideas. But that’s not how it feels to me. What really happens is that I channel Sylvie; I actually feel what she’d say if she could:

Dear God, thank you, thank you, thank you for this beautiful day. This precious day of living, sensing, feeling…and loving.

Thank you for my Mommy and Daddy. For our home and all the cushy places where I get to snooze and snuggle. Thank you for our walks and all of Nature’s sights and sounds…and especially the smells—my way of keeping track of all the critters who’ve tried claiming my turf in the past few days.

Like those squirrels, they don't smell much, but they drive me nuts. They wait till I'm almost on them, flicking those bushy tails, just to taunt me. I always fall for it, but I've never once caught one.

Thank you for my kibble, especially when Mommy or Daddy adds a little chicken. For the smorgasbord of tidbits they manage to drop on the floor. And for those crunchy little Milk Bone treats…and oh, my God, the real bones with meat on them!

    Help me to be a good girl. To make
    Mommy and Daddy smile and not frown.

Thank you for playing, for running, fetching and tug-of-war. For hide & seek and catch…and oh, tummy rubs! Thank you for all my toys: my lobster, skeleton, Nylabones and tennis balls…even though any old stick would do.

Thank you for my friends: our neighbors, Merrily, who always has a treat for me, and Megan who might just love me more than Daddy and Mommy do; and all my puppy friends at doggy day care. Especially Yogi, who’s my size and looks like me.

God, please help me to be a good girl. To make Mommy and Daddy smile and not frown. And to protect them from folks I don’t know—especially when they try to come into our house. No one seems to like that, but I can’t help it.

Please bless us all, and keep us safe and healthy. And for us and all the folks we love let it be a very good day.

Sylvia doesn’t know about “amen,” so I add that for her.

What do you think? Might your pet pray if you provided the lap and the voice? If not to God, perhaps to St. Francis, patron saint of animals, to the Great Spirit or to whatever manifestation of Universal Intelligence you invoke? You’ll never know unless you try. At the very least, it’s a nice, centering way to start the day—for both of you.

And please, share your experience—or just your thoughts—with the rest of us!