Every Animal Goes to Heaven. Even the Turtles.
Rosencrantz, the twenty-one-year-old turtle from New Jersey, loves classical music. And on Fifth Avenue, just a few blocks from the Empire State Building, Rosencrantz waits outside the Marble Collegiate Church to be blessed for the third time.
It’s Sunday, October 8, and the Marble Church is hosting its annual Blessing of the Animals event. Anyone with a pet, stuffed animal, or photo of their pet is welcome to bring them to get blessed by one of the church’s ministers. In the Protestant Church, the Blessing of the Animals dates back to the thirteenth century, honoring St. Francis of Assisi, the patron saint of animals.
It’s about noon after Sunday service, and the street is suddenly packed with dogs on leashes, cats in carriers, and their human counterparts–all patiently waiting for their turn with the minister.
Karla Hendrick, the woman holding Rosencrantz, has been explaining the turtle’s quirks and brilliance to anyone willing to listen. “He lets me know when he wants his bath–he’ll go stare at the bathtub,” Hendrick tells me. “Wherever I go, he recognizes a bathtub is a bathtub.”
At home, Rosencrantz isn’t confined to a lonely life in a glass tank–he has a special opening in his tank so he can live an unrestricted life in the house. “He follows me around the house,” Hendrick says. “And he knows exactly where he shouldn’t be, because it’s always the first place he heads to.”
The more Hendricks talks, the more Rosencrantz starts to wiggle his head and legs around, seemingly uncomfortable with the attention. Hendricks soothes him like one might soothe an infant–pressed against her chest, softly rubbing his hard brown shell as he snuggles into her jacket.
The most common pet participants are the dogs–some are dressed in tutus and costumes to stand out, and one in a baby stroller to be fawned over. Besides an NYPD horse, Rosencrantz is the most exotic animal on the block. That is until the bird named Bao Bao shows up.
Bao Bao, a four-month-old Cockatoo, is jumping around in his portable bird cage, posing just right for the people trying to grab a photo. Although Bao Bao has arrived late to the blessing, his owner, Weijie Chen, ensures he is next in line to be blessed.
“I want him to grow up happy and healthy,” Chen says as Bao Bao dances around his cage. “And also, it’s a good chance to meet some friends.”
Chen shows me a photo of Bao Bao’s brother, his other Cockatoo, and the one that got left at home. “He’s too skittish, so I just came with Bao Bao,” Chen explains.
This year is the largest turnout the Marble Church has seen for the Blessing of the Animals since they first started this event six years ago. “We usually have a really good turnout, but this is much bigger than we’ve seen in a while,” says Kim Sebastian-Ryan, the church’s Director of Membership and Connecting.
“It’s wonderful to see this,” she says, accrediting the turnout to the Church’s increase in advertising–pointing out the large green sign on the Church’s fence about the Blessing of the Animals–and that people in the neighborhood have begun to socialize more since the pandemic.
“The congregation knows about this, but the neighborhood doesn’t really,” Sebastian-Kim explains. And you don’t have to be a member of the church, or even be religious to have your pet blessed: “We wanted everyone to feel included, even if they didn’t come to church.”
The Rev. Susanah Wade has spent the last hour blessing various animals. Towards the end, once the sidewalk has cleared and there are only a few already blessed pets still hanging out, she is able to reflect on how important this event was for the pet owners. “I do feel that everyone that showed up here today, they really are seeking a blessing for a member of their family,” she says. “I don’t see a separation between them coming for a blessing for themselves or a human family member.”
Although the people here are pet owners, their love for their pets is similar to the love they would have for a human. In their eyes, whether it’s a dog, a cat (or even a turtle), their animal being blessed is just as important as a child being baptized. “When people ask for blessings, I can see the love,” Rev. Wade says. “They’re all just as important, and the difference they make in people’s lives is incredible.”
A woman who came to have her late dogs blessed in Heaven is slowly cleaning up her display: shadow box photos and blue ribbons with their names embroidered–Jack and Sadie–hanging on the church’s fence. Jack has passed most recently. She has been telling everyone about him. “He was my best friend in life,” she says when I pass her table. “Hopefully, someday, I’ll see him again.”
