Fairwell to Caleb

Caleb crossed the Rainbow Bridge on Thursday, January 8, 2026, at 11:15 AM.

He was born on April 7, 2009 (That makes him 16 years and 9 months.) I remember thinking how it would be nice to have a parish dog. I went looking for a breed that is friendly and hypoallergenic. A parishioner came by to register her child for CCD and had a Havanese with her. I was sold! I went to a breeder in New Hampshire, and she had one male dog left from a litter. It was Caleb who was waiting for me to bring him home.

I spent hours teaching him how to do “his business” outside and not inside. I taught him to sit, come, turn around, dance, go under, and play catch. I introduced him to the outside world to hear the different sounds, to sniff new places, and to develop friendships with a variety of dogs. He loved dogs bigger than himself. He was fascinated with cats and babies. He got to know the community. Parishioners would come and pet him on the table in the foyer. That would mean hundreds would come up to him, and he would quietly lie on the table. Caleb would be at daily Mass lying by the Altar and would sit on a chair in the chapel as I spent time in prayer. He loved being in the presence of the Lord. Over the years, Caleb attended many funerals, weddings, and baptisms, and occasionally he visited the school to see the children in the classrooms. When it was time for 1st Communion, Caleb was always ready in his white furry suit. Caleb had a special mission here on earth—not only to put a smile on people’s faces, but also to comfort the dying. At times, I would bring him on Communion calls for those who were nearing death. He would lie on the bed with the dying person to comfort them. He also attended wakes with me. I would say to him, “Go and pray,” and he would go to the kneeler in front of the casket, lift himself up to look at the body, and say his doggie prayer. Caleb was a Havanese, a Cuban dog (Havana), and that breed does not like to be alone. They are smart, friendly, and stubborn. As a priest, I often had to be away doing my priestly work—officiating at funerals, baptisms, and weddings, as well as attending parish meetings and school activities. During those times, my rectory staff watched over Caleb, although one person truly became his mother: Jennifer. She was his constant companion. A few years back, I transitioned Caleb from a conventional veterinarian to Dr. Martha Lindsay, an alternative veterinarian. Caleb also had two other special people, Susan and Fran, parishioners who helped with his medical issues.

Caleb can teach us two spiritual lessons. He was faithful, and his love was unconditional. That is a good example of God (dog spelled backwards), who is faithful and His love for us is unconditional. I was Caleb’s daddy—I fed him, protected him, and took care of all his needs. The Father does the same to us, His children. Caleb was dependent on me for all of his needs. We are dependent on God for every need that we have. Caleb asked if he could have a “Caleb’s Corner” in my letter, and I let him have a place for his lessons once a month. He wanted more space, but I told him that I was the pastor. His life on earth was short according to human time, but he did his work well. He will be deeply missed. What makes the pain bearable is that he is with his friends running in the fields of Heaven. One day, we will be reunited. Caleb came to this parish on my lap from the breeder, and he went to his home in Heaven when he died on my lap. He crossed the Rainbow Bridge into the arms of Jesus.

Caleb, enjoy your new life where you will be forever young. I love you, Daddy