St. Albans Boys Wrote Prayers by Spiders. Dogs Barked.

Our dog has never been to church, and the occasional bark from the congregation is the main reason. He barks at the mail, the wind and, once, a photograph of a dog.

The program had a literary component. Boys in the C Form offered prayers "written by" dogs, spiders, owls and other creatures. Then faculty, staff and parents brought their pets forward, each to receive a personal blessing, a splash of holy water and a treat. The congregation that year included fish, snakes, rabbits, cats and every size of dog.

A prayer written by a spider. Mine would ask to be left alone in the corner of the bathroom, most mornings, with the youngest knocking.

The school's write-up ends by saying the day left "all two, four, and no-legged attendees feeling blessed and pawsitive." That covers the snakes and the fish, and it took real nerve to put "pawsitive" in the official report of an Episcopal school.

In San Antonio, Blessed Sacrament Catholic School's invitation that fall solved the logistical problem in two sentences. Children could bring their pets, or, alternatively, a picture of their pet or a stuffed animal. And: "Families bringing live animals will be dismissed following the prayer service without an attendance penalty."

The pets get a blessing. The families get the afternoon off. Somewhere in San Antonio, a family without a pet looked at the dog next door and had an idea.

Churches do it too. In New York, Marble Collegiate Church held its Blessing of the Animals on Fifth Avenue that October and invited people to bring their pets, and children to bring their favorite stuffed animals.

We took the dog to the blessing at our local church this year. He sat. He accepted the holy water. He took the treat. He barked once, at a stuffed owl. The minister said, kindly, that the dog had something to add. My wife said that was the first time anyone had described it that way.