All Dogs Do NOT Go to Heaven

Has Nature itself fallen from the natural order of things or do We (as souled beings) have a distinct, elevated Natural Law?

Sometimes we look for certain encounters to give us meaning (e.g. seminars, sermons, travel, art, etc.)- something concrete and revealing about the world that we then can reflect on later. We then use this gained insight to understand more about the reality in which we live and in turn use that as a new filter to help better understand ouselves.

Other times, we have these encounters forced upon us. I recently stumbled on such an experience that challenged me on several levels. I will try my best to set the scene to help elucidate why these questions arose. Also, let me preface this story by saying that even though for me this was a novel, singular event, the people in this society beginning at a young age witness acts like the following on a regular basis. Maybe because of our different life experiences, we (I) don't appreciate or notice them in the same way. Just as a UnitedStatesian* preacher might be more affected by spending time with the starving poor than attending another theological symposium, I was more conflicted about seeing this ravenous act of "nature" than many other people with prior exposure might have been.

(Disclaimer: Some of this content is not suitable for children under... a certain age.)

At about 6:45 AM, Abby and I walked onto Mayatan School campus and immediately noticed the distinct sounds of a dog fight. (Hint: Dogs only fight about 3 things I think.) We walked over to the fence by the kindergarden and first grade area where we saw a group of about 10 dogs outside on the dirt road all seemingly very agitated. The reason for all the commotion became painfully evident when I saw one dog mount another. This is not the first time I'd seen dogs mating in Copan (see blog post on 11.7.2009), but then again, this was no Discovery Channel mating scene with futuristic Zen music in the background- this was a full on gang bang. The dogs were literally taking minute-long turns with the female, and fights frequently broke out when they thought the other had exceeded his alotted time. On top of all that, the incessant barking, growling, yelping, and ferocious quarreling attracted several primary grade students to contemplate this atrocity alongside us.

Dumbfounded by the barbaric way these dogs were having their way with this submissive female, I didn't even try to shield these children from such base animosity. Immediatley then, the first question struck me: Why should I "protect" them from this sight? I wouldn't stop them from watching other acts of nature like a bird ripping a fish apart or a spider sucking the blood out of a mosquito. On the contrary, I would probably encourage that they look to see nature in action. Then followed the second question: Why did this part of nature affect me so much? I've seen other gruesome things in nature that seem strangely beautiful and "natural," so why did this part of nature seem so despicable and unjust?

Why do I feel like natural in this case should be in quotation marks? Is it just my projecting socially constructed ideas about sex and relationships? This would mean that the only difference between this and other situations is that I can identify and empathize more easily with dogs in comparison with other things. Thinking about grass and its pollen, I guess I know that for us it's not acceptable to spread your seed across the whole world with reckless abandon in hopes of siring a child. But maybe because this type of procreation looks so vastly different than ours, I have no moral anguish knowing it occurs. Or maybe Nature is not inherently perfect or morally neutral lik we are taught in Science class. I still don't know the answer.

However, I can't disregard this powerful repulsion that I felt while watching those dogs repeatedly copulate with the female. Quite often it looked like the female was in a lot of pain. It's like her genes that caused her to be in heat acted as a seditive, so she would be compliant to an otherwise (seemingly) uncomfortable situation. Am I misreading the experience? Is Nature fallen? Or is this an example of how the image of God that we carry really sets us apart?




*In English, we lack an adjective to denote our own U.S. citizenship. The closest term we have locates us on 2 of 7 continents: we call ourselves Americans. This term becomes ambiguous when considering the people of the Americas south of the U.S. because those people rightfully claim they're Americans too. In Spanish, the word estadounidense clarifies that the person is from the U.S.A. I propose that the much derided term "U.S. Americans" (pioneered by Miss South Carolina) be embraced to classify U.S. citizens because it removes ambiguity in a globalized world and because it sounds much more natural than UnitedStatsian.