My dog Pony is two years old tomorrow. About a year before she was born, I knew I was ready for another canine in my life, after the death of Rusty. As I was homeless at the time, I couldn't adopt a dog from the shelters. So I asked the Goddess Hecate for the right dog, preferably a girl dog. I'm not kidding. I did. I wrote a poem about the perfect dog for me, and Hecate responded. (Reminds me of the saying, "Be careful what you wish for--you may get it.") Pony and her three sisters were born on a day sacred to Hecate. Pony is consecrated to Hecate--sort of a Divine Mother of All Godparents. I'm writing all this today in case I get zapped from either too much partying with the pup or get zapped by Hecate for not having a funny enough blog post.
One of the reasons I asked Hecate, besides Her love of dogs, is that She also cares for the homeless. Food as offering to Her was traditionally left at a place where three roads meet. The food was most likely eaten by homeless or travellers and not by the Goddess or Her Holy Hunting Hounds.
I wish this tradition could be revived, especially in honor of Pony. Tea instead of wine or mead, please. Even if stray dogs eat it instead of people, there would be just that little bit of mercy placed in the world. I can't leave meals out in Philly these days. I'd be arrested for encouraging rats. And rodents, too.
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