Whenever I remember, I ask myself this question: What it is that I want for my dogs?

I always have the same answer. I want a good life for them. Some people feel this can only be accomplished if  you save a dog from a bad life and then give him a good one.

But I feel this moral obligation no matter where I get a dog: a breeder, a shelter, a rescue group, off the street. I get a dog from all kinds of different places, and in all kinds of different ways.

They all deserve the same thing, in a sense, they all need to be saved.

I wish to give every one of them a good life.

A purebred dog deserves this as much as a rescue dog, Rose deserved it as much as Bud, Lenore as much as Red.

There is, I know,  a particular kind of gratification from pulling a dog out of an awful situation and into a good and loving one. I also know that is often a selfish thing, as much for me as for them.

But one is no better or worse than another. I see all dogs as being rescued from a poor life, transported from one place to another, a good life.

I resist the many temptations I am offered to be divided from other people, to label myself, to let others label me, to see my feelings as superior to yours, as my choices more righteous than yours.

Animals don’t do that to one another, only grasping politicians and the people who blindly follow them.

My dog theology centers not on the shallow debate over rescue or purebred, but on the idea stewardship, first expressed, like so many moral ideas,  in early Christian theology.

“God took the man and put him in the garden of Eden to tend and keep it (Genesis 2:15) or Corinthians 4:1-2: “Let a man consider us as stewards of the mysteries of God. Moreover it is required in stewards that one be found faithful. Or Luke 12:47-48: “For everyone to whom much is given, from him much will be required; and to whom much has been committed, of him they will ask the more.”

The idea of stewardship has evolved from the Bible in our contemporary world, and it has become an inspiration to me.

There is nowhere in my life that I take the responsibility of stewardship more seriously than in caring for animals.

The angry people who have occasionally accused me of cruelty, even abuse, have no comprehension of what stewardship really is when it comes to animals. There are many ways to show mercy.

Dictionary.com defines stewardship as the responsibility and overseeing and protection of something worth caring for and preserving.

A steward can also be a person who acts as a surrogate of another or others, and aren’t we all surrogates for our pets and animals, none of whom can speak for themselves in our language?

My goal when I get a dog like Bud is simple. To give him a good life.

And Bud is now having a good life. He is well fed and comfortable sheltered. He is being trained to live safely and lovingly in our world. He feels safe and cared for.

He has places to rest and find peace, and other dogs to be with and play with and learn from, as is the almost universal need of dogs, who are pack creatures.

I not only love him, I train him, and care for his health, and give him the medicine I understand that he needs. He has access to the places he needs, and is learning to live in safety and trust.

Maria feels the same way.

I am faithful to this, I take it seriously. It’s my job to give him a good life, to let him run freely when possible, have work to do, and the attention  he needs to feel loved and secure. I think dogs can feel pride and approval, even if they don’t quite know what either is.

It is stewardship even to find the things he needs to chew on and learn to be calm and at rest. And to offer him praise.

Being a steward means being a surrogate: I will speak for him when he needs me to show up, and be sure to show him mercy and spare him unnecessary suffering and pain.

I will not assume he will tell me what he wants, I know it is my job to do that, to speak for him, to understand what he wants and needs and take responsibility for both.

Watching Bud on the sofa tonight, looking so much more peaceful and at ease than when we first saw him two weeks ago, I felt good. When there is real stewardship, if feels solid, it feels good.

I feel much of me will be required for this dog, and much has been committed, and much more will be asked.

I commit this, it is what it means to be a steward.