Animals and a restored creation

Remembering Athena

11/21/16-5/27/26

The dark sky flashed with lightning as thunder rattled the windows and doors throughout the house. Another boom, sounding like someone crashing into a door, echoed through the bedroom where I lay asleep. It was my 120-pound Mastiff, Athena, pouncing against the sliding glass door, desperate to come inside.

The storm that lingered on the horizon was now directly overhead, and fear gripping her heart caused a temporary loss of mind. I never really understood how such a massive animal could be frightened by a little bad weather. Only recently have I come to realize that it was not the storm itself she feared, but the unknown. In my presence, what had seemed so frightening lost much of its power. Often I would put her in her kennel in the shed until the storm passed. Somehow, being locked up in the shelter of cozy bail of hay brought her a comfort that enabled her to weather the storm.

When I first got Athena she was just ten weeks old and weighed almost twelve pounds. My sons, Zach and Austin, found and purchased her for me back in 2017. Being fascinated by the breed I had been talking about getting an English Mastiff for quite some time.

English Mastiffs are large dogs, known for their loyalty and their protective nature toward those they love. I had read numerous stories about Mastiffs protecting their owners. One story in particular stood out to me. An intruder had broken into a woman's home and was trying to get to her, but her English Mastiff positioned himself between the attacker and his owner. He never attempted to harm the man, but he also refused to let him come any closer. The dog simply stood his ground, protecting the one he loved.

Trying to give me kisses!

I do not remember exactly how long it took me to settle on her name. I think it was a couple weeks. I do remember how and why I chose it. At the time, I was reading a book about the Greek gods and came across the story of Athena. Athena was revered as the goddess of wisdom, strategic warfare, justice, handicrafts, and civilization. The particular book I was reading described her as a protector of the vulnerable, especially children, and a defender of justice.

Athena grew into a very large dog. While she was not as big as some English Mastiffs, she usually weighed around 120 pounds. I have seen her reach 135 pounds when I fed her a little more generously.

She could easily place her front paws on my shoulders and look me straight in the eyes, which she occasionally did when we were playing around together.

The thing that always captured my attention about Athena was how much she reminded me of the Lord.

Most of the time, if we were home, she would be standing at the back door looking in, hoping someone would come outside and play. If the grandkids were over, even better. She would come to the door and wait patiently for them to bring her treats. She loved the treats, and the kids loved giving them to her.

Whenever I was outside, Athena was always in front or beside me causing me to stumble over her. She simply wanted to be where I was. Many evenings, as I sat on the back porch, she would settle down beside me. Often, she would face away from me and then lean her head back in my direction, letting me know she wanted me to rub her head. And if I happened to be eating something, she would come sit directly in front of me and stare with those big, sad eyes, looking as though she had not eaten in days. I would tell her to stop begging and go lay down. She would do so but after a while would be back begging again and eventual I would give in and share with her whatever I was eating.

How did she remind me of the Lord?

She always wanted to be with me. She never judged me, never got mad, and never stopped loving me. She simply wanted to be near me and freely showered me with affection. In her own way, she was a constant reminder of a love that delights in being present, a love that draws near, and a love that never grows weary of our company.

God cares for the seemingly insignificant.

“What is the price of two sparrows—one copper coin? But not a single sparrow can fall to the ground without your Father knowing it. And the very hairs on your head are all numbered. So don’t be afraid; you are more valuable to God than a whole flock of sparrows." Matthew 10:29-31 NLT

On the Brazos River

"And if God cares so wonderfully for wildflowers that are here today and thrown into the fire tomorrow, he will certainly care for you. Why do you have so little faith?" Matthew 6:30 NLT

Reading these verses brings me a measure of comfort when I think about the value that God places on His creatures, big and small. Even flowers! Not only that He cares for them but I believe that He cares about what we care about especially our pets, His creatures. He has given us the capactiy to love our pets. I'm not saying we love our pets like we do our kids, but I'm guessing some people who do not have kids may love their pets as if they were kids. Also, I believe these pets have a certain capacity to love us in return.

As C. S. Lewis once suggested, if animals have a place in God's purposes through their relationship with human beings, it would not be inconsistent with God's generosity for them to share in the fullness of His renewed world. While that is speculation, it does reflect the larger biblical trajectory: God's answer to creation's groaning is restoration, not abandonment.

"In that day the wolf and the lamb will live together;the leopard will lie down with the baby goat.The calf and the yearling will be safe with the lion, and a little child will lead them all.The cow will graze near the bear. The cub and the calf will lie down together. The lion will eat hay like a cow. The baby will play safely near the hole of a cobra. Yes, a little child will put its hand in a nest of deadly snakes without harm. Nothing will hurt or destroy in all my holy mountain, for as the waters fill the sea, so the earth will be filled with people who know the LORD." Isaiah 11:6-9 NLT

This passage from Isaiah depicts a time in which the earth is filled with the knowledge of the glory of the Lord. It is this knowledge of the Lord that brings the blessing, wholeness, and fullness of life that enables the inhabitants of the earth to live in peace with one another and with all of God's creation.

The wolf and the lamb will dwell together in harmony. I mention the wolf specifically because Isaiah does, and because the wolf is the ancestor of today's household dog, the beloved companion found in so many homes.

Will the restored creation include our specific pets? That is a question above my pay grade. Yet I do not think an affirmative answer is too far-fetched. As a child and an adult, I have been deeply attached to certain dogs and horses. They were more than animals to me; they were companions who shared a part of my life.

Does Papa's work of restoring all things and healing the wounds of our lives include a reunion with beloved pets? I honestly do not know. Scripture does not answer that question directly. But when I consider the extravagant goodness of God, the One who nurtures every sparrow and delights in all He has made, I find it difficult to believe that such a hope is beyond His heart.

I do not claim to have an answer. I am simply thinking out loud with you. Hurting! Hoping!

Charles Haddon Spurgeon would probably caution against making confident claims about whether a particular dog will be present in the New Earth. Yet he would also remind us that the God who feeds sparrows, guides fish through the oceans, numbers the hairs of our heads, and promises the liberation of creation is not indifferent to the creatures He made.

Creation is something God cherishes, sustains, and intends to bring into the fullness of His purposes, rather than something destined to be discarded. While Spurgeon stops short of declaring that our dogs will greet us in the age to come, his vision of God certainly leaves room for that hope.

Gregory of Nyssa

(summary not quote given by chatgpt)

The final goal of God’s work is that nothing created by Him remains outside the good, but that all creation is brought back into harmony with the divine life.

ADDED 6/16/26

I've been easing my way through "There And Back" written by George Macdonald, reading a chapter or two a week. In no hurry to finish it. I picked it up today and was reading chapter twenty, Wingfold and Barbara. The following is a portion of the conversation they had about Wingfold's forty year old horse.

(Thomas WIngfold is a pastor found in 3 of Macdonald's novels)

"She has a process to go through, and she will come out ever so much better."

"You're not going to have an operation performed on her-at her age?"

"No. She is going to have her body stripped off."

"Good gracious!" cried Barbara. Then seeing finally what he meant, she began laughing heartily.

"So then," she said "you believe animals have souls? I have always thought so."

"So have I, and so I do indeed!" answered Wingfold. "I can't prove it. I can't prove anything-to my own satisfaction, that is, though I dare say I might to the satisfaction of one who did not love the creatures enough to be anxious about them. I don't think you can prove anything that is worth being anxious about."

"Then why do you believe it? asked Barbara, influenced by the talk of the century.

"Because I can," answered Wingfold. "To believe and to be able to prove, have little or nothing to do with each other."

"But," persisted Barbara, with Richard on her mind,"how are you to be sure of a thing you can't prove?"

"That's a good question, and this is my answer." said Wingfold-"What you love, you already believe enough to put it to the proof of trial. My life is such a proving, and the proof is so promising, that it fills me with the happiest hope. To prove with your brains the thing you love, would be to deck the garments of salvation with a useless fringe. Shall I search heaven and earth for proof that my wife is a good and lovely woman? The signs of it are everywhere-the proofs of it nowhere."

Just over a year old hanging out on the Brazos River.

Romping on the river.

She remained playful til her last day!

She was about five months old here.

That serious look!