Maddie: Rest in Peace

Wednesday morning, Diane and I lost our dear Maddie, an absolutely wonderful 15-year-old Bichon Frise. Maddie was born on January 21, 2008 and died on June 7. Diane and I adopted Maddie on March 29, 2014 from the “Brat Pack,” an aptly named Bichon rescue group out of Mt Dora, Florida. Maddie, then, was a part of our family for almost ten years. It really seems as if she had been with us far longer, simply because she joined us so willingly and immediately endeared herself to us. Here’s a photo I took of Maddie on the day she joined our family.

In a conversation with a friend the other day, she suggested that for those our age our relationship with the family dog is more evident, much deeper, perhaps more important. When we're raising children, the family dog is a little less present to the parents than to the children since work, child-rearing, homemaking and all the rest take up so much of our time. We actually spend fewer hours alone with our dogs and when they leave us, we certainly miss them, but our grief is tempered by a home still full of life. But in retirement, the children are grown, raising families of their own, and a dog becomes a far more meaningful member of this smaller, aging family. Diane and I shared in Maddie’s care, and her presence was almost constant, just as Maddie shared her attention with both Diane and me. I suppose from Maddie’s perspective, we became the “pack.” Yes, we were a small pack, just the three of us, but the presence of each was important to the others. It’s remarkable how quickly this little dog became a true part of our family.

Maddie & Hang-out the Window Goggles

This was evident in Maddie’s behavior. When I moved from room to room doing little tasks, she would follow me. If I went into my office to work, she’d join me and plop down and curl up on the little dog bed near my desk. She’d act much the same way with Diane. Maddie especially disliked it when Diane and I happened to be in separate rooms with the door closed between us. This she could not accept. She wanted the pack, the family, together, or at least accessible. Maddie actually taught us quite a bit about relationships, and even about discipleship. Over the years I’ve written a few blog posts about this. Here are links to a couple of them:

• In December 2017: Doggone Discipleship.

• In August 2018: Maddie, My Teacher

The Threesome at the Grand Canyon

Within weeks of Maddie’s arrival we took her with us on a long road trip to California. It was then we discovered that Maddie, unlike all our previous dogs, didn’t especially enjoy riding in the car. Why? I haven’t a clue, but she came to us as a six-year-old with a collection of interesting, but minor, neuroses. Although she adjusted somewhat to car travel, she never fully accepted it, and much preferred to ride along in the golf cart on neighborhood trips. But as we also discovered on that long West Coast trip, she loved being with new people. Other than trying to nibble on the toes of two of our grandsons, she made friends with everyone…well, almost everyone. There was one man in the neighborhood she seemed to dislike. Whenever she saw him, she growled, a response never repeated with another. Who knows why, but I never really trusted him.

Diane and Maddie in Tombstone, AZ

Maddie readily accepted other dogs unless they were aggressive toward her. She wouldn’t put up with those snappy little ankle-biters who seem to regard other canines as potential enemies rather than friends. Usually, she would simply turn and walk away from the aggressive ones. But if another dog actually tried to attack her, Maddie would respond in a way that always sent the other dog running. She wouldn’t pursue, but would then just go about her business of OCS, that is, obsessive, compulsive sniffing. Maddie was often the dominant dog in dog-on-dog relationships.

Possessive Maddie and her Milkbone

Maddie seemed also to accept the presence of wild creatures. She would certainly notice the rabbits, squirrels, armadillos, and our little neighborhood lizards — pretty much any wild four-legged animal — but she never chased them. I think perhaps the predatory instincts had long been suppressed in her breed, or more likely it was just Maddie’s unique personality. Interestingly, the local wild critters rarely saw her as a threat. I’ve seen her stand within a foot of a pair of tall sandhill cranes. She’d just sniff away while they searched for food, each ignoring the others. The same was true when we’d occasionally happen on a flock of 20 or 30 ibis gathered in a neighbor’s front yard. Mutual tolerance was always evident. On our daily pre-dawn walk, we’d often stop by a spot where two frogs (or toads?) hung out, always sitting on the same small concrete slab. Maddie would quietly approach them, bend over, and give them a sniff. Truly amazing, but it happened day after day. If I ever came within five feet of this pair, they would instantly disappear down an access hole in the concrete. 

And here is my all-time favorite photo of the two females who joined forces to rule me for the past ten years. You can see why...

Yes, indeed, Diane and I will miss this wonderful, beautiful little gift from God. For those who love Him, God always provides the perfect gift at the perfect time. I think He did that for us when He gave us our Maddie. Living as we do in our odd version of retirement, aging and in imperfect health of mind and body, we became closer to each other thanks to Maddie. And surprisingly, with her physical departure, I sense that this closeness will only increase. She remains with us in spirit.

Oh, yes, one of my favorite philosopher/theologians is Peter Kreeft, a professor of philosophy at Boston College and a man who has written more books than most folks today have read. One of those books, Every Thing You Ever Wanted To Know About Heaven, is a marvelous read, and I recommend it highly. On page 45 Kreeft offers a wonderful, Scriptural explanation of why our pets will join us in heaven. Buy the book and read it.

In the meantime, Diane and I will still shed some tears and be continually surprised by Maddie's absence. We were good to her, but she was far better to us. And so, we offer her to the Lord, Who made heaven and earth and all creatures great and small. 

 

Blessings and God's Peace...

George Cardinal Pell, R.I.P.

Cardinal Pell, the Australian prelate whom liberals love to hate, and, along with Joseph Cardinal Zen, is among the most persecuted of modern cardinals, died last Tuesday at the age of 81. His funeral Mass will be celebrated today in Rome. May he rest in peace. 

I won’t offer a eulogy here since those who knew him best will do that far better than I. But if you want to come to a better understanding of this remarkable man, just read his three-volume Prison Journals. I also suggest reading another of his books: Test Everything: Hold Fast to What Is Good.

How influential was Cardinal Pell? The Wall Street Journal, certainly no particular friend of the Church, described him as “the most influential Catholic churchman in the English-speaking world.” I certainly agree.

Since March of 2022 a rather lengthy memo has circulated among the cardinals who presumably will take part in the next conclave. The anonymous author called himself “Demos” (Greek for “people”) and most knowledgeable folks in the Vatican believed it was written by a cardinal. After Cardinal Pell’s death, Sandro Magister, a veteran Catholic journalist revealed that Pell was actually the memo’s author.

The 2,000-word memo consists of two sections — “The Vatican Today” and “The Next Conclave” — in which Pell provides a detailed and rather intense description of the papacy of Pope Francis. It is not complimentary. Cardinal Pell, who had been a close collaborator of Pope Francis, had been brought in to clean up the Vatican’s messy financial operations. Pell, however, came to believe Francis’ papacy was trying to take the Church in the wrong direction. In another article, apparently written shortly before the cardinal’s death, he expressed his growing concern about what he sees as serious moral lapses and wokeness on the part of the Vatican:

“...deepening confusion, the attack on traditional morals and the insertion into the dialogue of neo-Marxist jargon about exclusion, alienation, identity, marginalization, the voiceless, LGBTQ, as well as the displacement of Christian notions of forgiveness, sin, sacrifice, healing, redemption.”

In the memo Cardinal Pell pulls no punches and states that “Commentators of every school, if for different reasons … agree that this pontificate is a disaster in many or most respects; a catastrophe.” He also declares that “The Holy Father has little support among seminarians and young priests and wide-spread disaffection exists in the Vatican Curia.”

The memo’s first section describes a litany of problems affecting the Church today, largely, Pell believes, resulting from decisions made by Pope Francis. The second section, addressing the next conclave, focuses on what the kind of pope the Church will need in the near future. Cardinal Pell’s description is clear and concise:

“The Pope does not need to be the world’s best evangelist, nor a political force. The successor of Peter, as head of the College of Bishops, also successors of the Apostles, has a foundational role for unity and doctrine. The new pope must understand that the secret of Christian and Catholic vitality comes from fidelity to the teachings of Christ and Catholic practices. It does not come from adapting to the world or from money.”

I could include the entire memo here, but it is readily available elsewhere. You may or may not agree with Cardinal Pell's assessment of Francis' papacy and the current state of the Church, but it is still worth reading. It certainly shouldn't be swept under the rug. Read it and, as you always do, pray for Pope Francis and for the one, holy, catholic, and apostolic Church.

Here’s the link to the original memo: A Memorandum. (Note that the memo was posted on the site before the author's identity was revealed.) 

Nancy Hathaway, Our Dear Friend - Rest in Peace

Nancy

Today, in the early morning hours, Diane and I, and so many others, lost a dear friend, Nancy Hathaway. She died the day before her 63rd birthday

Nancy's husband, Joe, lost a loving wife, a partner who cherished him, cared for him, encouraged him, nudged him and sometimes shoved him, but always kept him pointing in the right direction. Her children and grandchildren lost a mother and grandmother whose deep love for them they will never fully comprehend, at least not in this life. And those of us who were blessed to be counted among her friends will miss her dearly, for she was one of those rare friends who always went the extra mile. We are joyful that she has gone to her true home, but her absence has left a hole in our hearts.  

Nancy and Joe - May 2018

At the end of her life on earth, Nancy was back home in Sumter, SC, together with her family. Of her four children only one was missing, but not really. Her youngest, John, returned to the Father last month, and as Joe said this morning when he called us: "John was there, waiting for his mother so he could carry her to the Father." Amen! I wrote a brief post about John the day he died -- click here if you'd like to read it. 

Nancy with granddaughters Allie & Gianna (2008)

Diane and I have known Nancy and Joe for well over a decade. I first met them when Joe applied for the position of director of our parish's music ministry and my pastor asked me to join him for the interview. In walked Joe with Nancy at his side. Joe handled the interview well, but Nancy was the one who iced the cake. She repeated the many testimonials, made sure we knew the breadth of Joe's experience, and handled all the negotiating. It was an impressive team performance. We hired him (them).

Nancy & Joe at our Home - December 2012

At the time Joe was working at Valdosta State University in southern Georgia. He and Nancy would drive down to Wildwood, Florida every weekend so Joe could lead our  parish's music ministry. Our pastor at the time put them up in an old Winnebago motor home he kept in a local RV park. It wasn't just an old motor home, it was an old, leaky and moldy motor home, unfit for human occupation. I expect our pastor didn't realize how bad it was since to my knowledge he'd never stayed in it, but as one of our other deacons remarked at the time, "Even St. Francis wouldn't stay here." And it was especially horrible for Nancy who at the time was recovering from brain surgery. So Diane decided Nancy and Joe should stay with us each weekend, and thus began our friendship.

The Four of Us - Tennessee (August 2009)

Over the years we've visited them as they moved, vagabond-like, from Georgia, to Florida, to Tennessee, and to South Carolina. I like to think they always considered our home as their home, a place they could stay, if necessary without notice. We certainly thought the same of their home, wherever it happened to be. We never demanded much of each other but each gave whatever was needed. It was the kind of friendship that didn't ask questions, except for, "What can we do?"

Diane and I got to know Nancy even better this past year since she and Joe lived with us for several months while Nancy underwent treatment at Moffitt Cancer Center in Tampa. As you might expect, driving to and from Tampa, plus all those hours during treatments, generated some interesting conversations that spanned the human condition and more. We shared the stories of our lives, cried occasionally, but laughed more, a lot more. The laughter was usually at ourselves and the strange things we've done and encountered over the years. We also prayed. We prayed for healing. We prayed for miracles. We prayed for each other and our families. But we always prayed that God's will be done, for He knows what is best and turns all to good for those who have faith and love Him [Rom 8:28].

Take it! We can't keep smiling: Nancy & Diane (2016)

Throughout much of her adult life Nancy waged an ongoing battle with illnesses many and varied. She suffered much and deeply, but never let suffering stop her from embracing the duties of this life. Heck, she never even slowed down, at least not until her very last days with us...a true energizer bunny. But now she can rest easy in God's loving embrace, for He "will destroy death forever. The Lord God will wipe away the tears..." [Is 25:8].

Giving me "the Look" -- Ocoee, TN (August 2011)

Describing another is always a very personal thing. The person I know and love may be a very different person to someone else, who sees her from a unique perspective. But if I were asked to describe Nancy with only a few words, I'd simply say, "Sweet, funny, loving and tough." For me, that says it all. 

Nancy seemed to be most relaxed when our little Bichon, Maddie, would assume the role of therapy dog and cuddle up with her. And remarkably, Maddie seems to know that something has happened. She has obviously missed Nancy since she and Joe returned to South Carolina last week. But today, our little dog has not been her usual enthusiastic, nagging self. Like most dogs, Maddie is sensitive to changes in the humans with whom she lives.

Dear Nancy, everyone, all your family and friends, will love you always. We will miss you, Sweetie, but we know we will be with you again. May Almighty God look upon you with kindness and give you peace. 

Pray for us, Nancy, intercede for us, and keep a place for us. 

V. S. Naipaul, R.I.P.

This morning I read that the novelist and Nobel laureate, V. S. Naipaul, died yesterday at his London home. His death occurred just a few days before his 86th birthday. Although a native of Trinidad, Naipaul was of Indian descent, hence his full name: Vidiadhar Surajprasad Naipaul. To his few close friends and acquaintances he was simply "Vidia," a blessing to those with Western tongues. Awarded a government scholarship in 1950, he left Trinidad to study at Oxford and thus began the career of this exceptional man of letters.

V. S. Naipaul

I first read Naipaul in 1979 when I picked up a copy of his newly published novel, A Bend in the River. I had heard of him, but had never read his work, just a few reviews. But the opinions of the critics were so varied and confusing I decided to sample his work and find out for myself. As I read the opening words of the novel -- "The world is what it is; men who are nothing, who allow themselves to become nothing, have no place in it." -- I was hooked. Those words, although politically incorrect to many, for me had the ring of worldly truth. Yes, indeed, despite our personal hopes and dreams, "the world is what it is," and Naipaul spent his literary life describing his take on that reality to his readers. 

Although I'm not a Naipaul fanatic, I 've probably read a dozen or more of his books, and enjoyed every one of them. But Naipaul was more than a novelist, and wrote a number of fascinating books describing the places, people, and cultures he encountered during his extensive travels. His observations, opinions, and conclusions often surprise, and sometimes irritate, but always force me to examine my own attitudes and judgments.  Some critics, of course, objected to his cultural characterizations and plastered him with negative labels, apparently hoping that some might stick. He's been called a racist, a misogynist, an Islamophobe, a Hindu nationalist, and more...I've always thought of him as a man who told the truth as he saw it. Can we ask anything more of a writer than this?

If you haven't read Naipaul, by all means do so. I especially enjoyed his semi-biographical novel, The Enigma of Arrival, as well as his much earlier work, A House for Mr. Biswas. Among his non-fiction works, I suppose my favorites include Among the Believers: An Islamic Journey; The Middle Passage; and A Turn in the South.

My bookshelves house 10 volumes of Naipaul's works and, coincidentally, they reside on the same small shelf with about a dozen of Evelyn Waugh's books. Despite their widely varied backgrounds, the two men had much in common. Each could be included among the best writers of his time. Each wrote wonderful novels, often based on his own life experiences. And each wrote exceptional works of non-fiction describing his travels in culturally distant lands. 

Interestingly, both Waugh and Naipaul have also been described as personally irascible, as curmudgeons with few close friends. I can't and won't judge another based on his personality, assuming that what we see of another is rarely an accurate reflection of his true self. Anyway, I would much rather have a handful of close friends who accept me for who I am, than be surrounded by a flock of chirping, faithless acquaintances who come and go with the seasons. 

Religiously the two men were far apart. Although Naipaul often criticized the religious values held by many today, particularly among those who practice Islam, I don't know if he were a man of faith. One can certainly be personally unpleasant and still be an active believer. After all we are all sinners. Evelyn Waugh, of course, was a convert to Catholicism. Once, when asked how he could justify his nasty disposition with his Catholic faith, Waugh replied, "You have no idea how much nastier I would be if I were not a Catholic. Without supernatural aid I would hardly be a human being." Waugh, too, was a man who spoke the truth as he saw it. 

Rest in peace, Vidia, and thank you for your work that caused so many to reexamine the world in which we live. May God shine His face upon you...