A Measure of Religiosity

From: Mia Cope

Apparently, my predecessor as general manager at Casa de Togo was a very spiritual being. It was widely documented that Togo prayed before meals regularly. His pious nature was also noted and recognized through his designation as a “saint” during his first full day in heaven.¹

The entire matter of religious practice came up when Daddy served my first full meal at Casa de Togo. After scooping generous portions of kibble in my dish, he asked if I wanted to pause to give thanks. I didn’t. And further informed him that I also had no interest in eating simply because food had been made available.

I may have been a little brusque in my reply. It came as no surprise that I was soon summoned before the board members of Casa de Togo to explain my position.

Basically, the board heard the concerns that Daddy had as to my personal spiritual beliefs. It should be noted that in his opening, Daddy testified that he believed that I was, indeed, a very spiritual being and that he was only seeking clarification as to my stance on prayer — and meal times.

With permission of the board, I opted to respond to the issues in reverse order.

First, after a lot of research, I have become a proponent of a modified interval diet in which I forego eating big meals and opt, instead, for nibbling throughout the day and only as I become hungry. While I won’t claim a specific health benefit, I’m pretty sure that Daddy and other humans I’ve observed would certainly be more svelte if they shared my practice. I didn’t make that part of my official presentation because Daddy was sitting right there and could have had his feelings hurt since he has delusions of svelteness.

Second, since I choose not to eat big meals, I thought it somewhat imprudent to limit my thankfulness to a couple of times per day that may or may not correspond to my actual enjoyment of the food.

Togo at prayer before breakfast.

I greatly admire Togo’s devotion to prayers at his mealtimes. But Togo, being from an older generation, viewed nutritional intake and spirituality differently from me. He was more orthodox in eating patterns and thanksgiving. I find that admirable — and quaint. But I would also point out that it was merely tradition.

I prefer to sprinkle my prayers — and my meals — through the days. Some people call them “breath prayers." And nibbling is simply nibbling.

Daddy and the Casa de Togo board members seemed greatly pleased and relieved at my explanation. And, as they left the conference room, I heard several mention that they, too, might want to give such prayers a try.

I am extremely grateful to be working at a place that recognizes matters of spirit can’t be sustained merely by tradition. They must be lived.

On a related note, Momma has mistaken my breath prayers, which in moments of particular religious fervor come quite quickly, to be panting. On such occasions, she unrelentingly lowers the thermostat, believing that I am hot. And the rapidly cooling interior of Casa de Togo has Daddy reaching for a jacket and complaining profusely. It’s not a huge problem. Momma and I see it as a religious experience for Daddy and a fine opportunity to develop his spiritual maturity.

And for this, we are all thankful.

1. It should be noted that for purposes of this Note from Casa de Togo, we are talking about “Protestant sainthood” which has been called “irregular,” “haphazard,” and even “non-specific” as it corresponds to sainthood, with its four levels of attainment, within the Roman Catholic church. Togo was also referred to as irregular, haphazard, and even non-specific in his heritage despite the well-documented analysis of his genetic make-up.