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Posted Feb 05, 2003 – 01:30 PM – Several years ago my ex Michelle and I were at Doolittle’s with our dog Suzi. There was a flyer for an animal blessing on Saint Francis‘ Day. There would be two blessings, one at Stanton Park and one at Lincoln Park. Although Michelle and I were not church-going folks, we didn’t want to short change our beloved pet; besides, Michelle and Suzi were both from San Francisco.

When Michelle, Suzi, and I arrived at Lincoln Park, our local doggie park, there was a table set up with people and doggie food. There was water for the dogs and, if I recall, there was some Saint James’ literature.

There were also dogs and cats, and their owners, skirting the Abraham Lincoln Abolition statue. The cats were huddled close and the dogs were circling, smelling cat everywhere.

After a while, a tall slender man approached. With a bald pate and his long black robes, he glided towards us, all smiles and spectacles. When he arrived, he opened his Tupperware container of holy water, filled a chalice, and then spattered our pets and us with his soaking aspergillium.

He was Father Richard Downing. Dick. Father D. From Saint James’ Episcopal Church, Capitol Hill.

He told us a story as he also offered each pet a drink directly from the chalice. This was a new thing to do. Once a short while before that day, he was blessing a home in which there was an old dog. During the preparation for the blessing of the home, Father and the human owners of the home heard the heavy lap lap lapping of water. When they turned, the old dog was drinking Holy Water. Story goes that this pup lived on and on and on. So, our animals were each offered to drink from the bowl.

When Father came up to the three of us, one of the first things he told us was that Saint James’ does nice weddings. He was charming and debonair, neither haughty nor rushed; he was friendly and intelligent, neither aloof nor aggressive.

When it was over, I said to Michelle, “he was so good with us and the dogs, I really want to catch his act,” as though he were a comic or performer.

Its been three years, give or take, and I am the Saint James’ Parish Webright as well as a member of the Saint James’ Vestry.

Although I don’t attend religiously, my heart is always there; since I am no longer a Roman Catholic (I officially converted a couple years ago), nobody at Saint James’ can do a very good job of guilting me this way or that, either.

I am there of my own choice and am still there long after my ex Michelle changed churches and long after we broke up. I believe I am there for good, for God.