Sharing the Divine

I can communicate with animals.

Just last night, I stared straight into my golden retriever’s eyes and said silently, “Henry, do you really like that plain yogurt I give you every night with your dinner?”

He stared back liquid pools of brown love and answered, “Anything you give me is full of love, and how can love not taste divine?”

I sat back in my chair, stunned.

I wasn’t surprised that I’d heard Henry’s words as clearly as a train whistle, or a fog horn, or a hummingbird’s wings. His words have rung loudly other times, although I admit the phenomenon is rare.

Most times I feel his answer; if you’ve never communicated with an animal, you don’t know what I mean. But some dog or cat lovers are nodding their heads. We humans usually don’t like to admit that there’s a language bond between species, probably because humans own the ridiculous assumption that we’re superior to every other being.

No, I wasn’t shocked because he answered me, but instead taken aback by his words.


Food and love, giving and receiving, cooking and eating, all are part of the Divine. With a capital D.

I raced to the kitchen, where earlier I’d placed half a dozen Meyer lemons from a friend’s garden. Henry watched me, knowingly, a little drool appearing on the side of his black, eating, love, communicating with dogs, food

I started measuring sugar, cracking eggs, pouring flour into a bowl, turning the mixer at full speed, then allowing the dog to lick the beaters as his special treat.

Lemon bars. Cooling now on the rack, ready to share with others.

Sharing the Divine.lemon bars, food, sharing, love

1/2 c butter

1/4 c powdered sugar

pinch of salt

1c flour

Mix all together with until creamed.  Spread in greased 8×8 Pan and bake at 350# for 15 – 20 min.


2 beaten eggs

1 c sugar

2 Tbl lemon juice and grated rind of 1 lemon.  Pour over hot dough, bake 20 min more.  When cool, sprinkle with powdered sugar.


32 thoughts on “Sharing the Divine

  1. Absolutely, they speak to us. Gene and I know that even our deaf dog “heard” us speak our love. We talked to him as if he heard us and I’d get inwardly annoyed when people would say, “uh, Mel, he can’t hear you.” Foolish people.


  2. What a deep lesson here on Friday night. Seems like it should be Sunday. But then the Divine heeds no time or rather lives on in eternity. Thanks for sharing. 🙂


  3. A lovely story, Pam. Yes, our pets do communicate with us in Divine ways. And some not so (d)ivine. My sweet, well-mannered, and Divinely soft-furred kitty, Cheetah, lays gifts at my feet, looks up into my eyes with a proud and loving smile saying, “Here, this is for you. I’m sharing my bounty with the woman I love.” These tasty treats of mice and snakes and moles that I know he truly feels are divine don’t quite fit into my idea of divine—these half eaten creatures scare the heck out of me. I don’t mean to hurt Cheettah’s feelings when I jump three feet and shoo him out, with an expletive or two. He apparently forgives my inability to share his joy and my lack of understanding of his choices of the divine, because he continues to give and give and give some more (“Hmm. Maybe this fare will eventually grow on her.”)! Pass the lemon bars, please.


    • I’m laughing while I’m reading about Cheetah and his idea of the Divine. Of course, he was named “Cheetah,” so who could blame him? But you’ve made a great point – that the divine with a “D” means different things to different beings!


  4. What a sweet story! I swear my dog communicates with me. It’s so funny because my parents will stare him baffled and ask what does he want? It’s always clear to me what he was trying to communicate. 🙂


  5. Such a great feeling, that unconditional love. My BLab is my partner in crime..he does all, sees all, hears all, and reacts to everything. Would be lost without him. He’s even my sous chef when I grill. A better friend would be hard to find. Thanks for sharing your Henry…what a doll.


  6. I know my cat communicates with me. He tells me where the food is and where his bowl is and where the fish are. He tells me it wasn’t him and that he loves me. He tells me that my lap is the most comfortable in the world.


  7. I know I keep waiting for Lynne’s April, the Yorkie, to speak to me with those shiny raison eyes of hers beaming at me: “I love you, Auntie Sue!” I keep prompting her, but she just rolls over for me to rub her little belly!!


    • I loved sharing my campsite with you – you made it even better when you left – I could feel/see your essence in each ‘like.’ Thank you so much – I appreciate the encouragement!


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