Am I still a Christian?
In the messy web of identity and associations, I’m weary of arguing about beliefs, practices, and labels.
The day my dog died, I took off the cross necklace I had been wearing every day for ten years.
My dog was hospitalized for acute renal failure and perished while at the vet. After I had recovered from that devastating phone call, I called back to ask when we could come in and see her body (the kids were still in school). The vet gave me a timeframe and informed me that her body was laying in a room where they were playing Christian hymns to my dead dog. I found out that the belief in Taiwanese folk religion is that animals retain their sense of hearing for eight hours postmortem, and judging from my cross necklace, the vet assumed I was Christian and wanted to honor my beliefs.
I asked, “What if I had been Buddhist?” “We would play Buddhist chants, in that case,” he said.
