The Ministry of Cats (and Dogs)

I know that I have built rapport with a patient when they share their pet photos with me. The invention of the camera phone makes this possible. Earlier in my career, when I was a crisis councilor with youth, I recall people telling me about their pets, but that was before we all walked around with entire photo albums on tiny devices in our pockets. Now patients can easily share with me images of their beloved animals, which can lead our conversations in meaningful directions. What is it about pets that cuts through emotional and cultural barriers like a blade through butter?

I have a couple hypotheses about the topic of pet ministry. The first thought is that our pets (dogs, cats, reptiles, birds, whatever…) can represent vulnerable, sweet, and innocent parts of ourselves. Our animals are sort of like inner children, in that their needs are simple and usually attainable: safety, nourishment, shelter, caring relationships. My cat is not wondering about a bucket list or his 2023 taxes. My cat doesn’t triangulate in relationship with me. My cat does not lie. My cat howls when I get ready to leave for work, and he quickly forgives me when I get home, eager for an ear scratch and a serving of wet cat food. Simple. Parts of me are that simple: I want safety, connection, and a tasty meal. Done.

When we nurture our pets, we are demonstrating to the most vulnerable parts of ourselves that we can be good caretakers. By proxy, we provide the gentleness to pets that we need to give to ourselves. Even folks who are unkind to themselves and others usually manage to be kind to a pet. It is not surprising to me at all when a tough patient reaches for a phone halfway through a visit to show me a photo of his dog, which is usually smiling for the camera. From here we can talk about self-care and self-mercy.

Another theory I have about the ministry of pets is that domesticated animals are nature’s healers. This is why there are therapy animals, usually dogs, but also llamas, goats, pigs, etc… Well-trained animals can be powerful care providers that lift the spirits of hospital patients, folks in nursing homes, VAs, and more. While attending the national chaplain conference last year, I learned about a program for Spiritual Care departments that provides dogs for chaplains. At the large midwestern hospital where I trained, there was a small army of dogs and volunteers roaming the halls. A nurse could put in an order for “pet therapy” and a healing dog would be there within a day or so. Some dogs even had business cards.

Our pets are healers of our minds and spirits. They love on us in a way that mends our broken hearts. They sense when we are physically unwell, and provide purr therapy or diagnostic licking. Our pets treat us as whole beings, and they serve us in many ways. Is it really surprising that ancient Egyptians mummified their cats? Not at all. Many of us believe that animals have spirits, and these spirits can join us on the other side.

Cats and dogs have ministry: providing us unconditional love, connection, and security. They can truly be our best friends.