The Virginian-Pilot
                             THE VIRGINIAN-PILOT 
              Copyright (c) 1996, Landmark Communications, Inc.

DATE: Monday, October 7, 1996               TAG: 9610070038
SECTION: LOCAL                   PAGE: B2   EDITION: FINAL 
SOURCE: BY DIANE TENNANT, STAFF WRITER 
DATELINE: VIRGINIA BEACH                    LENGTH:   81 lines

PARISHIONERS, PETS PACK PEWS ON BLESSING DAY

For a moment on Sunday, the Rev. Robert Lundquist thought his service was going to the dogs.

Sargent, an Australian shepherd mix, was yowling along with the hymn, ``All God's Critters,'' and Bruno, a yellow retriever-type dog, was panting patiently in the aisle.

Then Lundquist was reassured. Looking out over the congregation of Good Samaritan Episcopal Church, he saw an iguana, three cats, a hamster, various plush toys and a horse. Must be the first Sunday in October. Time for the Blessing of the Animals.

Across Hampton Roads, Episcopal churches and a few others observed the feast day of St. Francis of Assisi by inviting pets to the service. ``It's kind of a fun way to celebrate and remind ourselves that God did make it all,'' Lundquist said. ``It's not that some parts of creation are good and some aren't. All parts are good.''

Even the animals were good. Blanche Whalen was worried that her cat would cry all through the service. It had taken four tries to get her in the cat carrier, and she wailed all the way to church. But as soon as the carrier was placed in a pew, she fell silent.

Lundquist peered inside. ``And you've got. . . ?'' he left the question open.

``Precious,'' Whalen replied. ``Which is debatable right now.''

``You think she needs a blessing today?''

``Definitely.''

Lundquist has conducted animal blessings for seven years at this church, but some area churches, such as Trinity Episcopal in Portsmouth, have done so for more than 30 years. Lundquist sees animals - even stuffed animals - as important to his human flock.

``God sends to us what we need, and for some folks it's a dog or a cat or an iguana,'' he said. ``When we're young, that sense of a representation of God's creation can be a comfort.''

The scripture reading was from the book of Genesis, the story of Noah's Ark. When the reader reached the part about 40 days and 40 nights of rain, 3-year-old Austin Miklos looked up at his grandmother.

``I need to go potty,'' he whispered. Ann McMellin looked sideways at him. ``I really do,'' he insisted.

He really didn't. He settled for getting down in the floor and puckering up his lips for grandma's dog. Bruno obliged with a big, wet lick across his lips. ``Eeewwww,'' Austin said.

Lundquist led the singing enthusiastically. ``All God's critters got a place in the choir, some sing low, some sing higher,'' he sang. From the back of the church, Sargent lifted his muzzle and yowled softly.

``The dogs and the cats, they take up the middle, while the honeybee hums and the cricket fiddles,'' Lundquist sang. Precious was silent.

Then it was time. Lundquist stationed himself at the front of the church. A line of humans and animals formed.

``Precious, may God bless you and keep you, and may God bless and keep your owner, Blanche, so she may properly care for you, that you may continue to be a witness to God's creation,'' Lundquist said, his hands resting on the cat carrier. He looked at Whalen. ``I'm scaring her!'' he said.

Jenna and Meagan Hicks, 4 and 5 years old, brought their stuffed toys, a white Scottie and a pink poodle, to Lundquist. ``We ask that you bless these images of creation. . . .''

Heather Luhm held out a green iguana to the vicar. ``This is a live one, isn't it?,'' he said. ``And his or her name is. . . ?''

``Spike,'' Luhm said.

``This is a first for me, ladies and gentlemen.''

McMellin led Bruno forward. Lundquist smiled. ``We're back in familiar territory now,'' he said.

Teenager Jessica Midgett held out a stuffed toy. ``What kind of animal is this?'' Lundquist asked.

``Cookie Monster,'' she replied.

``Lord God, we ask that you bless and keep this monster. . . ''

He obliges for all.

Even for horses. Outside, Prince Ariel ate grass in front of the church doors, held by his owner Elise Phillips. Lundquist led the congregation onto the lawn for another blessing.

Lundquist kept the service shorter than usual so the animals wouldn't get too restless, but he reserved a little time at the end for announcements. .

``Are there any other important announcements to be made at this time?'' he asked.

``Yes,'' said Kathy Hallal, Sargent's owner, pointing at the lawn where Prince Ariel was grazing. ``Watch out for your step.'' by CNB