A parishioner once posed this question to me: “I like the idea of loving my neighbor. But my neighbor has a dog that barks all night and the owner refuses to do anything about it. How am I supposed to love him?”
I don’t remember if I had a wise answer. But the poet Billy Collins does:
Another Reason I Don’t Keep a Gun in the House
The neighbors’ dog will not stop barking.
He is barking the same high, rhythmic bark
that he barks every time they leave the house.
They must switch him on on their way out.
The neighbors’ dog will not stop barking.
I close all the windows in the house
and put on a Beethoven symphony full blast
but I can still hear him muffled under the music,
barking, barking, barking,
and now I can see him sitting in the orchestra,
his head raised confidently as if Beethoven
had included a part for barking dog.
When the record finally ends he is still barking,
sitting there in the oboe section barking,
his eyes fixed on the conductor who is
entreating him with his baton
while the other musicians listen in respectful
silence to the famous barking dog solo,
that endless coda that first established
Beethoven as an innovative genius.
Random notes of absolutely no spiritual value:
- Beethoven was deaf at the end of his life, so he wouldn’t be bothered by a barking dog.
- When I was in Vienna in 2020, I discovered that Beethoven lived in more than 60 places in the city. He left some places to avoid paying rent, and others because he played the piano too loudly.
- Leopold Mozart, Wolfgang’s father, wrote a “Hunting Symphony” that includes barking dogs in the third movement. Last year, the Danish Symphony performed it with three dogs who barked on cue. Here’s a video: The Hunting Symphony
Steve Jacobsen, Ed.D 