By SCENTS BY CAROLE ORLIN
Last Saturday, my husband, our cousin Cheryl, and thousands of other people grabbed their pets and went to downtown L.A. for the annual Blessing of the Animals led by Cardinal Mahoney. I admit I went there more out of curiosity than out of a belief that any blessing could help my wild and crazy dog.
I had heard so much about it and, although I’m not Catholic, I believe in covering all bases.
We braved our way on the 10 freeway, only to find that our exit at Alameda was closed off, presumably because of the immigration rallies. We took an alternate route and fought our way through serious L.A. traffic. Hordes of strange people crossed our path. In particular, one guy stood in front of our car in the middle of the street and wouldn’t move. I had no idea what to do since I knew I could not sic the dog that I was bringing to be blessed on him. Finally, he got tired of that game, and moved out of the way. This maneuver occurred after hitting our car with his fist, and then proceeding to block the lane next to ours.
We drove around forever, until we could find a parking spot. We were lucky and found one for $6. My cousin was not as lucky and had to fork over 12 bucks. We finally made it to the site where the blessing was to be held.
As soon as we got there, we knew it was worth the hassle. It felt like we entered an oasis of peaceful, kind souls in the middle of the craziness and bustle that is L.A. There was a feeling, corny as it sounds, of love all around. Every type of person was there, from the stereotypical biker who brought his Rotweiler that he loved and wasn’t ashamed to admit it, to parents with their little children and their puppies — old dogs, kittens, mice, hamsters, turtles, and birds. My dog met her first pig, and they hit it off remarkably well. People brought their horses, cows, goats, ferrets, and rabbits. One guy brought his beloved albino python (I kid you not). There were roosters, chickens and geese. It was so nice to see, because so many of these animals are just bred for slaughter; yet there were some people who loved them enough to have them blessed.
Cardinal Mahoney’s speech about humans being given dominion over animals, and how important they are to us on so many levels, was actually very moving. He pointed out the fact that this had become a tradition that has been going on in Los Angeles for 76 years. Although it started out as a Catholic event, it now attracts everyone, and everyone is welcome. Of course, Mayor Villaraigosa was there (not one to miss a photo-op), but thankfully his speech was short, and the actual blessings started pretty much on time. Unfortunately, my dog was afraid of the sprinkler, but she managed to get a healthy dosing of the holy water anyway.
After the procession, we headed back out into the traffic and craziness. It was kind of sad, because I wanted to hold on to the good feelings I experienced at this unique happening.
The unusual events of Saturday afternoon brought back a conversation I had with my good friend Ann, a devout Catholic. She and her mother took Ann’s sister, who had breast cancer, to Lourdes, hoping for a miracle. Unfortunately, her sister did die from the cancer, but she told Ann and her mother that going to Lourdes and being among the wonderful people there was the best experience of her life. I asked Ann if she felt the same way, despite her sister not being cured, and she confirmed that she did. At the time I could not understand that view. Although I am not comparing the blessing of the animals to making a pilgrimage to Lourdes, I can now see that the feeling of being in a kind, supportive environment is universally healing.
I took home questions and lessons from that day. What can we learn from these animals? Why is it so difficult for people to get along? Could it be because we emphasize our differences more than our similarities? My dog checked out the pig, the pig checked out the dog; they saw they were no threat to each other, and that was the end of it. No worries.
Maybe we complicate things that really are simple. Remember that song from elementary school: “I’m proud to be me, but I also see, you’re just as proud to be you?” Now, if I can just keep that feeling the next time I’m accosted by an aggressive panhandler or cut off in traffic by someone on their cell phone.
I guess for now, I’ll settle for the memory of the good feelings I had that day, and see if I can create more. [This column is dedicated to Djuna, Christina and Jordana.] (Carole)
Originally published in the Santa Monica Daily Press print edition on April 24, 2006. Read the original PDF.