The loss of a pet and a visit with Padre Pio

A few weeks ago, I saw that Padre Pio’s relics were coming to the Baltimore area. I marked my calendar, even though I wasn’t sure I could fit a visit into my schedule. Their closest stop for me would be Immaculate Conception Church in Towson, but I wasn’t sure I could make it. But I would try.

Padre Pio (St. Pio of Pietrelcina) is a saint I have been getting to know better in recent years. He was such a holy man with a deep devotion to the Eucharist. He lived a life full of miracles. I really wanted to visit his relics while they were in the Baltimore area.

The morning for our family started in our usual whirlwind, as we all prepared for school and work. While I was feeding our four pet finches, I noticed that one of them—Lisa—was still sleeping on her perch. Our birds are usually at their most active while I’m putting food into their cages, and I was surprised. Still, her mother often sleeps on her perch in a similar way during the day. I questioned it but shrugged it off.

The Quiet of the Birds

We headed out the door, and I drove our sons to school. I was home in less than an hour to start a remote workday—hoping I would be able to make my visit to the church. As I walked into the house, I noticed that our birds were quiet. They are rarely quiet, and instinctively I headed for their cages.

There was Lisa lying on the floor of the cage. She had died.

I was so surprised and sad. She was such a sweet little bird, and she has brought us so much joy. And she was one of our younger birds.

About Our Birds

You might not be familiar with our finch family. We added Ron and Hermione to the household in June 2020. Ron built a nest, and Hermione started laying eggs, including two that hatched in September 2020, adding Lisa and Bart and bringing our bird family to four zebra finches.

Finches don’t live forever. The lifespan is apparently about 5 – 7 years, and we don’t know how old Ron and Hermione are. Somehow, I thought we would have more time, especially with the babies. And now Lisa is gone.

I’m grateful she passed away in a peaceful way.

I’m even more grateful for the joy she gave us. In the darkest days of the pandemic, we had our chirping birds as our daily soundtrack.

The arrival of the babies was a tremendous gift, as we watched Lisa and Bart learn to fly, start eating on their own, acquire their beautiful markings, and grow into full-sized (but still little) finches.

We’ve enjoyed four years of getting to know Lisa, watching her grow into a lovely little bird, and hearing her little meep-meeps as she talked to the rest of the family.

A Visit with Padre Pio

On this particular day, going to church to see Padre Pio’s relics felt even more important. During a sliver of time at mid-day, I drove to Immaculate Conception. I was sure it would be packed, but I parked easily and walked right in. (Apologies to everyone, including my sister who could not find a spot when she tried to go!)

Incredibly, there was no one kneeling at the relics. I was able to kneel and pray and gaze in wonder at these articles that this holy man touched and wore, a handkerchief he used when he was crying, even a lock of his hair and a crust of one of his wounds.

If you aren’t Catholic—and even if you are—the concept of venerating relics can be hard to understand. But to me they help me feel just a little bit closer to someone who modeled his life for God, someone who is now with God, and someone who showed us how to live like Christ in a world that needs goodness and peace and holiness and love.

We are all on a journey toward heaven, and we need people in our lives, those on earth and those who are already with God, to help guide us home.

I asked Padre Pio to intercede for several intentions, inviting him to pray with me for many of the heaviest ones. And I asked him to pray for me for our family—human and bird—in the days ahead. I figured a Franciscan would understand about the birds.

I bought a little bottle of holy water thinking I would bless our birds. And I headed home.

Padre Pio and Birds

It occurred to me that I had never read of any encounters between this great saint and birds, so I looked online. And I found two stories that made me smile. In one, he was in the monastery garden, when a whole host of birds gathered and started singing loudly and flapping their wings. Padre Pio was trying to speak with his friends but couldn’t be heard over the noise, so he said, “Quiet, that’s enough!” And the birds were silenced.

In another story, he was visiting a friend—his spiritual daughter—when her pet bird started making so much noise he told it to be quiet too. And it listened. (You can read the two stories and others on this site.)

As we remember our little bird and watch their bird family adjust to life without Lisa, I like thinking that this holy man was able to connect with birds—little creatures that add such beauty and vibrancy to our world.

No Limit to God’s Love

It reminded me of how many years ago, my Franciscan friend Fr. Tom Pietrantonio, OFM Cap., was talking to me about how when pets die, there isn’t a question of whether they go to heaven. We know that God cares for everything he creates.

Somehow it makes sense to me that on a day that we said goodbye to one of our dear little finches, I would have the chance to visit the relics of a Franciscan saint who gave his life completely to God.

Everything begins with God, and everything goes back to God. He cares for each of us. He holds us close and carries us, whatever life’s journey brings.

We are so loved, and we are so blessed. St. Pio of Pietrelcina, pray for us!

If you would like to visit with the relics of St. Pio, they are at Sacred Heart Church in Glyndon on Friday, Nov. 8, and Saturday, Nov. 9. You can read the details in this Catholic Review article.

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