Post by Grubb.
Leaving the White Mountains behind us in the morning mist, we came across a curious form of worship up in the hills outside of St. Johnsbury. (St. Johnsbury is in Vermont, but remember, this is a parallel universe so state borders as we know them may not exist.) Another aspect of experiencing a parallel universe that I can’t overemphasize are the subtle cultural anomalies. Like the St. Johnsbury’s Dog Chapel. Dog Chapel is on Dog Mountain, a large park-like property owned by the renowned folk art woodcarver, Stephen Huneck.
Apparently when Stephen was in his mid-forties he fell down the stairs of his studio carrying a large wooden sculpture. He suffered head injuries and was in a coma for a short time. Due to a slow recovery, his muscles had atrophied which, for a woodcarver, can be pretty depressing. But then he met dog. It’s not clear from the enlarged promotional essay framed inside the entrance to the chapel, but the thought of a doglike spirit was instrumental to his being able to resume his folk art. Canines were more than a best friend, they were a guiding angelic force.
Dog sculpture filled his studio; he was a man possessed.
He built a chapel that is a replica of a small New England church from the 1820s. (So far there is no escaping the 19th century in this universe.) It has wooden pews supported by carved dogs and stained glass windows etched with dog profiles.
The walls are covered with notes from owners remembering pets they have loved and lost.
I know I was meant to be filled with some sort of interspecies love, but it all seemed like kitsch to me, an unintended cartoon. I found the thought of people being moved by the chapel very depressing. Lifting the tail to the dog faucet in the bathroom lightened my mood.
But it didn’t lighten Stephen’s. He committed suicide at 61.