After years of misspent youth, during which time I considered animals little more than fleshy, occasionally cute, robots, yours portly has learned the error of  his ways and become an animal lover.

Don’t get wrong—I love to eat animals as much as I enjoy keeping them as pets, and I possess a realistic view of animals:  they exist to serve us, not the other way around.  I love Murphy, and I’ll make sure she is fed, watered, and (when appropriate) medicated.  But the day that the vet says, “we can keep her alive another two weeks with this $4000 experimental canine chemotherapy,” it’ll be time to give the old girl a heartfelt goodbye.  By comparison, I’d sell my left kidney to the gay mafia if it’d add one day to the life of one of my family members or Dr. Fiancée.

All that said, I now very much see animals as a gift from God.  Every child in Sunday School knows that the first job of the first man was to name the animals; God Spared the animals along with humanity when He Commanded Noah to build an ark.  Clearly, our relationship with animals is meant to be a fruitful and productive one.

Further, anyone who has ever owned a dog (or even a cat) knows that these creatures have personalities.  Sure, I imagine jellyfish don’t lead rich inner lives, but it’s wild and amusing to me how dogs can possess such a range of personalities.  Murphy is aloof and anxious, but very much the queen of her domain.  Dr. Fiancée’s three-legged mutt is sweet and loving, but has her sassy moments like Murph.  My parents’ two rat terriers are cousins and/or half-brothers of some kind (I think they share a grandparent), but despite their genetic similarity, their personalities are nearly opposite (much like human siblings at times).

Do I think dogs have souls?  Perhaps not in the way that humans do.  But there is a life and intelligence behind the eyes of a dog.  Even the most forlorn, neglected mutt possesses something of a shimmer behind his sad eyes.  The fact that the eyes can even express emotions suggests there is something deeper there.

Of course, the evolutionist wags will snarkily remark, “we just bred them to reflect qualities we like.”  Perhaps.  Nevertheless, I’m struck by how human dogs can be, while also being something quite different—in some ways, something even better.

All points worthy of speculation, idle or otherwise.  What do you think, dear readers?

With that, here is 12 September 2024’s “TBT: Remarkable Animals“:

The older I get, the more I appreciate animals.  My parents have just taken in two precious kittens—a brother and a sister—and watching their cantering and playing is adorable.  It’s also a good reminder of the playfulness of youth, in both humans and animals, and how enjoying that playfulness keeps us young, even if we’re not as spry as we used to be.

God Created some amazing stuff.  The sheer biodiversity of our world is awe-inspiring, and demonstrates that our God Is Awesome.  We serve an amazing Lord.

With that, here is 15 September 2023’s “Remarkable Animals“:

My local newspaper, the Darlington News & Press, ran an excellent column entitled “Until one has loved an animal” by Dr. Bill Holland, a Christian pastor and theologian.  His column runs regularly in the paper, and he always offers up some interesting insights into faith and biblical Truth.

The piece is about the remarkable humanness that animals can sometimes possess.  It’s easy for us to anthropomorphize animals’ behaviors, but anyone who has owned a dog knows that they share something with us that other animals lack.

Specifically, it’s about the remarkable spelling horse Beautiful Jim Key.

Jim Key was meant to be a racehorse, but his owner, veterinarian and former slave William Key, inadvertently bred a super intelligent, affectionate creature.  Beautiful Jim Key would spend all of his time with his owner, and gradually learned to communicate by placing letter blocks in the correct order.  The horse could also do math and nod its head yes and no in response to questions.

This humble colt—born weak and wobbly—would even perform for President William McKinley, as well as thousands of other fascinated spectators.

Not all animals are quite as attentive and intelligent as Beautiful Jim Key (that goes for humans, too), but it is fascinating how they develop personalities and even emotional bonds with us.  My parents’ two Rat Terriers frequently try to “talk” to them, and one understands dozens of words.

My old girl, Murphy, a ten-year old Bull Terrier, can convey every emotion just with her eyes, which can vary from cute and pleading—“look, I’m being sweet, give me a treat!” to sassy side eye—“look, I was being sweet, why didn’t you give me a treat?”  I’m convinced she understands a good bit of what I am saying, she just refuses to ignore it because she’s stubborn.

Animals possess a remarkable resilience, too.  Here’s Tom Poland on the anole, “The Miraculous Green Lizard“:

The anole can regenerate its tail (as I’m sure many at my parents’ place have done after their pups catch hold of one; one of their dogs recognizes the word “lizard” and immediately will go on the hunt).  Poland notes that we don’t have this ability, but the humble anole’s stem cells might provide the opportunity for us to regenerate lost fingers someday.  Whoa!

I’m not sure if I want anole DNA coursing through my pudgy fingers.  What I do know is that God’s Creation is absolutely astonishing, and its marvels and mysteries are boundless.  Our call to subdue and guard Creation is a massive one; spending times with animals surely reminds us of what an awesome—and fun!—responsibility we bear.