This past Sabbath afternoon I attended the memorial service for Bruce Wrenn. What impressed me the most was what our co-head elder, Bryan Von Dorpowski had to say about his friend, Bruce. He became noted as one of the very top specialists in marketing. As I listened I started comparing myself to Bruce. I kept asking myself, “What’s your excuse?” Thankfully my life isn’t over yet, so there is time for me to make a difference in my world, even as Bruce made a difference in his world. 

I never knew Bruce from the world of business. However, I knew him as a neighbor. Most every morning Bruce and Jan would come by our house to take their dog Blue for a walk. Sometimes I’d start singing Peter Paul and Mary’s song “I had a dog and his name was Blue.” Usually, we’d all smile. Blue impressed me as having the sweetest spirit of just about any dog I’d ever known. I think he got that from belonging to the Wrenns. 

Years ago around the turn of the century, there was a sheet that was published in Chicago called “The Ram’s Horn”. There were comments in it such as “When a man gets real religion even his horse knows it.” In this case, even their dog knew it. I’ve never been a pet person before, but between my dog Rascal and their dog Blue, it happened. I always looked forward to seeing them coming, knowing I’d get to pet Blue. Again: I think his attitude and conduct came directly from his owners, Bruce and Jan. I don’t suppose that a pet could lead someone into the kingdom, but you never know. If I were to meet someone there who either from Blue or from Rascal found a relationship with Jesus I wouldn’t be surprised.

Our neighborhood has several families with children. One of the girls is taking piano lessons and walks to and from, and in the interests of her safety we let her borrow Rascal to walk along beside her. Would you believe it? He doesn’t even need a leash to stay right beside her. Several of the delivery people who have our neighborhood on their route actually stop to pet Rascal. All of the kids like him—and I do, too. 

Our other pet is a cat who showed up in one of our back window wells one Sabbath afternoon, mewing to get out. I don’t know where he came from or how he ever got in there, but when the word got out that we had a kitten the kids came running. They named him Franklin. On the farm, there are always chores to do. My chores are to take care of Franklin and Rascal. It’s a good responsibility. One of the things we had to do was teach Rascal to stay home. An invisible fence did the trick. I guess I’m not too much different from Rascal in the sense that there are things I need to learn to do as well. 

I want to finish this blog with a question for us all. What kind of people are we? If we have pets, what is our influence on them? And if we have children, are they sweeter for knowing us? One thing I’ve noticed about both Franklin and Rascal: when the world has beaten me up and I come home, they’re really glad to see me—their tails tell me I’m OK. Can it be that pets are one of the ways God develops us?