Our Dog Red: A Small Token of Remembrance by Edward C. Sellner (review)

This touching book is at once an animal biography and spiritual memoir, the two foci overlapping as the author relates his experiences while mourning the loss of a beloved canine friend. Much of the story arc is bound to be familiar to readers who have lost companion animals of their own—the often-humorous adjustments as a new arrival joins the household; the deepening connections with family members; the slow, inevitable decline of the animal's health; the eventual farewell. Many know this storyline well. But Our Dog Red does not end there. Edward C. Sellner credits the bond he shared with Red as the source of an enriched spirituality, a refocusing of his academic and vocational energies, and a reorientation of theological and ethical priorities.

The latter intrigued me because it affirmed a similar experience. In my case, companion greyhounds retired from the racing world awakened a reappraisal of ethical and theological positions. But my attempts to describe the experience proved clumsy. I'm inclined to be shy about it (That's not how we go about the scholarly task.), and unspoken questions (Am I being overly sentimental? Is this just wishful thinking?) stifle clear, confident expression of what happened. Frankly, I lack(ed) the vocabulary needed to articulate connections between the religious life and the animal world. Sellner, fortunately, does not struggle with this. His repeated use of such terms as "spirit guide" (pp. 19, 20, 25, 29, 70, 85), "psychopomp" (pp. 20, 25, 27, 85 ["a guide who helps people through various transitions in life as well as an escort of souls to the afterlife"], "soul friend" (p. 85), and "muse" (pp. 79, 83, 85) when telling Red's story gets to the heart of the matter. Animals are potentially vehicles of divine grace and revelation.

In life, Red encouraged Sellner's spirituality, urging him to go further. Their regular walks became forms of prayer, with Red leading the way, "my guide to greater awareness of my own surroundings, and especially of my inner self" (p. 19). She helped him navigate unhappy times (pp. 21, 23), and he even links her presence to encounters with the numinous (see especially pp. 23—29, 80)—these scenes alone are worth the price of the book. And remarkably, she continued to "speak" to him in death because mourning proved to be the catalyst for new questions, which in turn proved transformative. What happens to animals when they die? Does their spirit live on? Do they have souls (e.g., pp. 46, 49, 69)? But this was no mere academic curiosity: "I began reading as much as I could on animals. . . . It was as if Reddy was now leading me in a totally new direction in my theology and spirituality, my teaching and my writing" (p. 70). "Red was my psychopomp," he continues, "my spirit guide, my muse, my soul friend leading me to new directions in my life. She was also my teacher" (p. 85).

Perhaps the most important contribution of Our Dog Red is the frank, sometimes-practical, sometimes-mystical record of real grief following the death of an animal friend. To mourn openly the loss of a dog or cat or bird or horse or another animal is risky. It invites flippant dismissal by the insensitive of the departed friend's worth and the ridicule of others who do not appreciate the depth of connection possible between species. Sellner understands this well, admitting to some embarrassment about his own deep sadness. He relates further the awkwardness of seeking help from a grief group: "I initially felt uncomfortable. . . . Weren't men supposed to hide their feelings, and not be so vulnerable about expressing them?" (p. 53). But by mapping out his journey through grief, and doing so as a serious theologian and churchman, Sellner gives permission to readers (especially Christian readers) to do the same. His relationship with Red in...