Learning from the New Skete Puppies

 by Bonnie Moore

Having just retired from 25 years of parish ministry as a United Church of Christ pastor, I jumped at the opportunity to spend five weeks at New Skete as a Volunteer Resident.  I wasn’t sure what I’d be doing after retirement, and I imagined that the time spent at the monastery might provide some solid time for discernment.

I was assigned, primarily, to work in the puppy kennel.  At the end of my first day, after helping with the socialization, feeding, and (frequent) cleaning-up of ten puppies ranging in age from 3 to 7 weeks, as well as ensuring that the two adult females in heat were well exercised and that their kennels were kept clean, I was amazed to see that I had clocked over 18,000 steps!  After Vespers, supper, and helping to wash (humans’) dishes, I was ready for nothing more than to collapse in bed.

Soon, however, I began to settle into the rhythm of the monastery.  Matins and Vespers bracketed each day, and fortified by a delicious meal at noon, I discovered that my work and also my free time were opportunities for simultaneous contemplation.  After all, while walking a beautiful German Shepherd along a mountainside trail through the gorgeous autumn leaves under crystal-blue skies, how could one not be conscious of the presence of an awesome Creator?  I found myself gratefully chanting Psalm 148 as the monks did at Matins every morning: “Let everything that breaths praise the Lord!”

It was the puppies, though, who provided the most valuable spiritual insights for me.  Each week, there were progressively more challenging “exercises” that I (and others) did with the pups every day.  The intentional neurological stimulation and socialization tasks made sense from a human perspective.  As just a few examples, having their tiny toes and ears gently handled would make the puppies’ future grooming experiences less unnerving, being calmly massaged head to toe helped make human touch trustworthy, being suspended two feet off the ground helped them learn to rely on human support.

But I could also sympathize with what these interactions must have felt like from a puppy’s perspective.  “I don’t want to lie on my back for 30 seconds!” I could imagine “Mr. Pink” (the pups were identified by the color of their ricrac “collars”) thinking as he attempted to wriggle out of my hands.  “I don’t like being constrained by a leash,” Ms Orange’s protesting cries could be easily translated.  “Stairs are scary!”  Ms Rainbow made her opinion crystal clear as she planted her feet to resist the new challenge.

And yet…  not only did every puppy eventually comply with my persistent expectations, they still came RUNNING to me, eyes bright and tails a-wagging, every single time I clapped my hands and called to them!  The puppies had no idea why they were being asked to do the things that were being asked of them, and they had no idea what their future held, yet they remained curious and willing to explore the world at hand: What are these crunchy things replacing the nice soft food in our food bowl?  I wonder how many of us puppies can fit on the platform at the top of that sliding board?  What is that cold, white stuff on the ground that wasn’t there yesterday? 

At the risk of anthropomorphizing, it became clear to me that New Skete puppies live joyfully and expectantly in every moment, trusting, even despite occasional reservations, that they are being guided and watched over by trustworthy and loving hands.  I’d even go so far as to say they embody living confidently in the promise of Jeremiah 29:11:  “For surely I know the plans I have for you, says the Lord, plans for your welfare and not for harm, to give you a future with hope.”

            I still don’t know exactly what my post-retirement days will look like, but I’m taking my cue from the puppies. By the grace of God, may I too live confidently and expectantly in every moment, trusting that I am being guided and watched over by trustworthy and loving hands. And, may I be ready to joyfully respond “Here I am!” whenever and wherever I am called next.