Toby's Tale

What follows is a letter I received from an old friend with whom I have discussed the current crisis in the Anglican Communion. My friend’s views are, to put it mildly, unorthodox. I certainly do not endorse them. Still, they may be of interest to the readers of Anglican Centrist.

The Godfather

Dear Mr. Von Salzen:

You said when we last talked that the Anglican Communion is “going to the dogs”. I can assure you of my own certain knowledge that such is not the case. I know whereof I speak because, as you well know, I am myself a dog. By breed I am a terrier and by heritage I am English, as English as beans on toast, Big Ben, and spotted dick. I can trace my ancestry back to the Conquest (my surname is Norman), and over the centuries my forebears have rid many an English farmstead of rats, weasels, stoats, and other vermin. Since the time of the first Elizabeth, my people have always been C. of E. Not a Puritan, Methodist, or Quaker in the lot.

But I am proud to say that I am American born and bred, and on this side of the pond (as we say) my people have always been Episcopalians. I am a regular attendee of Episcopal services, although I must confess (in this context you might regard the use of this word as an attempt at humor, but I assure you that there is nothing humorous in this letter) that I am not a frequent attendee of such services. You see, at our Parish the “Blessing of the Animals” service is held once a year, and it is that service only that I attend.

Now, to get to the point, let me tell you a story.

There was once a town in which the dogs were allowed to roam free. (Today, as you undoubtedly know, every dog is required to drag a human being around behind him on a leash, and the human must carry a plastic bag and pick up what the dog leaves behind. This uncivilized and unsanitary practice was not observed in the town that I am describing.) There were a couple score of dogs in this town that roamed around together. They were not, strictly speaking, a “pack” of dogs; that term implies a group with a common purpose (such as chasing sheep), and these dogs had no common purpose; they simply roamed around in company with each other by unspoken mutual agreement. Some of the dogs in this company were large, and others medium-sized, and others small. Some were breeds acknowledged by the Kennel Club, and others were breeds that even their mothers would be unlikely to acknowledge. There were Deerhounds and Dachshunds, Pekinese and Poodles, Malteses and Mutts.

Among these dogs was a certain little fellow, a Corgi, whose practice it always was to run out in front of all the other dogs, wherever the company was going, and prance along with his head held high, as though he was leading all the others. If it happened that the company came to a crossroads, and the Corgi went off to the left, but the rest of them went off to the right, then the Corgi would turn about and run as fast as his little legs could carry him, until he was once more at the head of the company, and then he would prance along again with his head held high, as though he was the leader of all the dogs.

This went on for quite awhile, and most of the dogs were perfectly content to allow the Corgi to pretend to be their leader, because, truth be told, they were all going where they wanted to anyway. However, as time went on one faction within the company began to grow annoyed with the little Corgi. This faction included some of the bigger and stronger dogs, as well as some smaller fellows who liked to claim the big dogs as their friends. The leader of this faction was a Pit Bull, and his lieutenants were a Doberman and a couple of Rotweilers. The Pit Bull’s group often pushed itself up toward the front of the company of dogs as they all roamed through the town, right behind the little Corgi, and then began to grumble about how they were always having to look at the rear end of the little Corgi (one member of this faction, a Husky, quoted the old proverb that “If you aren’t the lead dog the view never changes”). The Pit Bull’s faction began to make it a practice to turn right whenever the Corgi went left, and left whenever the Corgi went right, and then trot very fast, and all the dogs behind them just naturally did the same, and the Corgi had to race as fast as he could to get in front of them again and was quite out of breath when he got there.

The Pit Bull’s faction tried to persuade the rest of the company to eject the little Corgi, or at least make him stay to the rear of the company, but the other dogs were unwilling to change the way things had always been. Most dogs, as you probably know, are quite traditionalist.

In this company, as I said, there were many different breeds of dog. The Pit Bull and his allies began to complain that some of these dogs were funny-looking and had squeaky barks, such as Toy Poodles, Bichons Frises, Dandie Dinmonts, and the like, and argued that they shouldn’t be allowed to be part of the company. Even some of the dogs that weren’t part of the Pit Bull’s faction didn’t like having these “silly” little dogs around, but they didn’t think it was right to kick them out of the company just because they had been born funny-looking. Personally, I think it’s ludicrous to hear a Bloodhound complain that a Poodle is funny looking! But de gustibus as the Romans used to say.

Eventually the day came that the Pit Bull and his faction decided that they could not stand any longer being part of a company that seemed to be led by the little Corgi and that included among its members Toy Poodles, Bichons Frises, and Dandie Dinmonts, and – worse – that included dogs who would tolerate the Corgi and the Toy Poodles, Bichons Frises, and Dandie Dinmonts. So the Pit Bull announced that he was going to form a new company that would include only the right kinds of dogs, and he would be its leader, and they would go off to another part of town and would be the true dog company. Some of the big, loud dogs barked their support, and so did some of the small and medium-sized dogs (but none of the Toy Poodles, Bichons Frises, and Dandie Dinmonts).

The little Corgi was distressed and very confused. Now there were two companies of dogs, and he didn’t know which one to get in front of. But when the Pit Bull’s group started off toward the other side of the town, while the other group just stood around watching, the Corgi felt he should go where the action was and scurried off toward the front of the Pit Bull’s group. He didn’t get there. The Pit Bull barked at the little Corgi, and the Doberman and the Rotweilers did too. They weren’t going to tolerate that little dog pretending to lead them. They had a real leader, and the Pit Bull was going to take them where he thought they should go. The Corgi beat a hasty retreat.

That’s about the end of the story. The dogs that didn’t follow the Pit Bull off to the other side of town went back to their old routine. They roamed about, going more or less where they felt like going, and wherever they went the Corgi went on in front of them. There were fewer of them than there had been, but that didn’t seem to bother them very much. And after awhile, the old company’s numbers were increased when several of the dogs that had gone off with the Pit Bull came back. They said that in the Pit Bull’s company you couldn’t roam around and go more or less where you felt like going. You had to go where the Pit Bull told you to go. If you didn’t, or if you asked questions, the Pit Bull would bark at you very loudly, and might even bite you, so they decided that being in the same company with Toy Poodles, Bichons Frises, and Dandie Dinmonts wasn’t that bad after all. Even one of the Rotweilers came back.

So you see my point. That’s the way dogs handle such a disagreement. Human beings aren’t nearly that intelligent.

Very truly yours,


Toby de Terrier