Report from the Vicar -- introducing Hunter, the Comfort Dog.

 Dear Ones -- 

As my final internship as a Bishop of this Chaplaincy begins, I must report to you. Who would have believed, that is, other than Petrarch and Dante, that so much could happen in the middle of a Pandemic?

I do not start the day trying to accomplish a lot. I awaken at 6:00, and perform ablutions. Rinsing the mouth with water is salubrious not only for the dentition but for the heart.  From the study chamber I begin listening to homilies and lectures for at least two hours, gazing through the pines, across the valley to the mountains as the sun slowly changes their colors.  

By 8:00, I exchange my sleeping alb for the work-shirt, put on sandals, and walk the grounds.  Of course, the devoted Staff has already been up, and they usually ignore me. They continue with their meditations,  calls, and meetings.  I step outside and walk among the trees in the vicarage gardens, always surprised by the new blooms, or the expirations which have finally befallen a botanical.

By 8:45, I put the Boston Terrier, Hunter, on a leash.  Rebecca joins us, and the three of us do a morning walk -- several miles, and a full hour.  We make no effort to avoid others, but we do avoid long conversation, and this is where Hunter is invaluable. He haply greets all, but once touched, gets urged on by the next possibility of the path, and we move on.

After taking our "exercise" thusly, we move on to the business of the day. Just getting through the tidal communication takes a formidable hour and a steely determination to stick to a good "sorting" regime. My favorite is the Trinity of Things -- Things I will not do, Things I will do later, and Things I will never Do. As you can see, the list is comprehensive. 

While I think of it, here is a picture of Hunter. I am standing in the Gallery of his ForePaws. As he has often reminded me, a Unitarian Minister in Boston went to the trouble of "developing" his lineage into an official Breed.

Hunter formerly accompanied me on my rounds through hospitals, prisons, barracks and dormitories. Even the Hospice and care facilities have recognized the value of a dog during introductions and establishing relationships. Dogs make connections between people.

Very few dogs, of course, are universally beloved. I am hoping as Hunter grows up, he will find it easier to do his job of connecting people and making them laugh. His pantomimes are already quite famous.