Animal enthusiasts understand that we may have many pets and we probably will love them all. But over a lifetime of sharing your home with animals, there will appear one particular furry or feathered friend who will capture your heart in a unique way. That creature will inhabit corners of your heart where unclaimed love has languished, unnoticed by all but him. The two of you share something that others do not understand. For me, this special pet is my dog, Donovan.
I'll never forget the moment I first met him. It was a dark and stormy night (it really was) in January 2007. My nineteen-year-old daughter, Julianne, had been visiting a friend in Columbus, Ohio. I noticed the headlights of her car pull into the driveway but when I realized that she was taking an unusually long time to come into the house, I went to investigate. Through a kitchen window, I could see her standing in the rain. I read an intriguing montage of expressions in her face. I saw mischievousness, secrecy, nervousness, anticipation, and delight. Thinking the door was locked I moved to open it for her. When she stepped into the house I understood the montage. Wrapped in her arms was the cutest animal I'd ever seen.
As I looked into his dark, lively, intelligent eyes, this twelve-week-old Schnoodle cocked his head and gave me (I swear this is true because he still does it) a crooked grin. My heart did flips a happy dolphin would envy. From that very first wide-eyed, inquisitive tilt of his little puppy head, Donovan owned me.
You get the picture. This dog is pretty special to me.
That is precisely why it's such a big deal that he fell in the Spirit when Dr. Nemeh prayed over him. Don't laugh. It's true. Donovan asked for, and received, a prayer of his own.
On Sunday, 27 February 2011 (leave it to me to plan a dinner party on Oscar night), about two dozen forgiving folks came to my house. I had invited the employees of my favorite grocery store, Heinen's at Avon Commons, to a 'gratitude dinner' because they had been so supportive through every phase of writing and publishing Miracles Every Day. it seemed only right to thank them with dinner, dessert, and a discussion of my book. Donovan, of course, who takes his hosting duties quite seriously, was very much a presence at the party, and he spent the evening busily endearing himself to these new admirers.
As if on cue, Dr. Issam and Kathy Nemeh arrived just in time for the discussion, surprising all of us. We talked for a long time and it was a very special dialogue.
When we took a break for coffee, dessert, and signing books, one sweet lady whispered in my ear: Do you think that Dr. Nemeh would mind if I ask him to pray over me?
"All you have to do is ask," I told her. "He will never refuse to pray over anyone. This is his life's purpose; go ahead and ask. I'm sure he will be thrilled."
She crossed to the settee where Issam was sitting and asked for a prayer. Just as I predicted, he was happy to oblige. Before I knew it, everyone else followed suit and my dining room rivaled the deli counter on Sunday afternoon. (We could have used that little red machine that spits out numbers.) Not surprisingly, many fell in the Spirit.
After everyone had received a prayer, I asked Kathy and Issam to pray over me. As they moved to either side, Kathy on my left and Issam on my right, I glanced down and saw that Donovan was sitting at my feet. I scooped him up in my arms. I said to Issam, "I want Donovan to have a prayer, too--is that okay?" Kathy groaned good naturedly. She battles a deep-seated fear of dogs and cats every time she comes to my house.
"Issam," she cracked. "Would you please knock out the dog first so that I don't have to worry about him?" All three of us giggled. When Donovan tried to make friends with Kathy by licking her she pulled away, said, "Ewww!", laughed, and Issam began to chuckle too. It was really rather comical. I placed Donovan on the floor and turned to talk to Issam.
Donovan, however, had other ideas. He leaped up and down like a circus dog, as if he were on a pogo stick. Boing! Boing! Boing! He was jumping as high as my shoulders. I didn't know what to do or say. He was definitely being a nuisance.
"Do you need to go outside?" I asked.
Nope. He kept right on leaping. Boing! Boing! Boing!
Suddenly, I got it.
"Do you want more prayer?"
Maintaining eye contact with me, Donovan immediately sat down, perfectly in control, quite the gentleman.
"Do you want Dr. Nemeh to keep praying over you?"
Though he quivered with intensity, Donovan remained seated, looking up at me all the while with anxious, pleading eyes.
Issam and I looked at each other in utter astonishment.
I bent down, picked up my little dog, and the rest of the world disappeared. Issam reached his hands toward Donovan, already praying. Donovan's head slammed against my left arm and there it stayed. His body was heavy and motionless. He had fallen in the Spirit.
I murmured to Issam while he prayed. I told him how much I love this little guy and that I worry about him running into the path of a car. I was thinking about how short are the lives of dogs, and how so many of them get cancer. Issam continued praying. Suddenly joy lit his face. I had seen that joy many times before, and I knew what it meant. It meant that someone was getting a miracle.
"He is getting it!" exclaimed Issam. "He is getting the healing!"
I literally held my breath. I wasn't sure what healing Donovan might be getting and I wasn't going to risk spoiling the moment by asking, but whatever it was, I was thankful for it.
The prayer continued until, finally, Donovan lifted his head. He looked at me and in his eyes I saw gratitude. Sure enough, his little tongue came out and he gave both Issam and me a kiss.
I placed Donovan back on the floor. This time, he did not jump, not even once. He was satisfied. More than anything, this obvious contentment told me that what I had thought was happening was, indeed, exactly what had occurred.
I looked up. I saw my son, Dillon, and a huge circle of friends, all of whom were motionless and mesmerized. Tears were brimming in several pairs of eyes. It seemed to me that right then, time was suspended. We had just witnessed a remarkable thing, a sacred thing. One of God's creatures had recognized the beauty of the Holy Spirit and, having had just a small taste of Her healing power, had found a way to communicate, "I want more! I want more of that!"
How can anyone doubt that the Holy Spirit is real? For that matter, how can anyone doubt that animals have souls? Clearly, they have emotions and emotions, after all, are mirrors of our souls.
I believe, to quote a traditional Irish song, that all God's creatures have a place in His Choir. And I am in agreement with Mahatma Gandi, who wrote in his Autobiography, "I hold that, the more helpless a creature, the more entitled it is to protection by man from the cruelty of man."