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<DIV id=0></DIV><BR><FONT size=2>Thank you for this very inspiring story. Both
that the animals were following the path and for the kindness of the priest who
allowed them in for their hug. Thank you</FONT><BR><SPAN id=hbblock><LABEL
id=HbSession SessionId="3706786243"></LABEL>
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<DIV style="FONT: 10pt arial">----- Original Message ----- </DIV>
<DIV
style="BACKGROUND: #e4e4e4; FONT: 10pt arial; font-color: black"><B>From:</B>
<A title=BlaroliaAOL.COM href="mailto:BlaroliaAOL.COM">Rosina Lila</A> </DIV>
<DIV style="FONT: 10pt arial"><B>To:</B> <A title=GOCAMINOapete.uri.edu
href="mailto:GOCAMINOapete.uri.edu">GOCAMINOapete.uri.edu</A> </DIV>
<DIV style="FONT: 10pt arial"><B>Sent:</B> Friday, July 16, 2004 1:44 PM</DIV>
<DIV style="FONT: 10pt arial"><B>Subject:</B> the "four-legged" pilgrim</DIV>
<DIV><BR></DIV><FONT face=arial,helvetica><FONT lang=0
face="Palatino Linotype" size=2 FAMILY="SERIF" PTSIZE="10">Hello,<BR>Oso, the
"Peregrino a cuatro patas" who got his own credential is not a mixed-breed
dog, but is, in fact, a black Labrador. He led his owner, Don
Camilo, up the steps behind the Cathedral, for the hug to the image of
the Apostle, and downstairs to the crypt for prayers. He also
accompanied, Don Camilo, during the Pilgrims' Mass.<BR>And, no, Oso did not
get a Compostela, but instead he was given a St. Francis medal for his collar
and a special blessing from one of the Canonigos (Cathedral
priests).<BR>In the year 2000, after my pilgrimage, I was walking around
Obradoiro Square when I saw a woman crying loudly and seemingly in much
distress. She was German, looked quite bedraggled and was with a large
dog which also looked pretty much the worse for wear. The woman was
trying to make herself understood by a priest who was trying to calm her down,
to no avail. She appeared to be in her fifties or sixties. I went
over and asked her if she spoke English, and when she said that she did I
offered to translate whatever she was trying to tell the priest. She had
walked all the way from her hometown in Germany with her dog, some
sixteen hundred kilometers, had just arrived in Santiago and had
been stopped from going into the Cathedral with the dog; she
insisted that the dog was as much a pilgrim as she was, if not more, and
that the dog had undergone serious hardships and deserved to go into the
Cathedral (in fact, one of the dog's paws had a bandage and the other
paws had been obviously treated with some blue medicament); she was crying and
crying and refused to go in when I offered to look after the dog for a
while. Eventually another priest came out to talk to her; he was older
and seemed very kind, and he said that dogs are simply not allowed in the
Cathedral except for the day of the Blessing of the Animals, but he said that
if she came back at 7:00 p.m. by the Azabacherias door he would see what he
could do. I myself went to that door close to 7:00, and the woman
was there with the dog, both still looking pretty pitiful; the older
priest came out and led the woman and the dog into the church, and up the
steps for the hug, and down to the crypt, and about fifteen minutes later out
of the Cathedral through the same door; as they came out the woman looked
radiant.<BR>Two or three days later I ran into them at Obradeiro and hardly
recognized them because then they both looked shiny, spiffy and quite
elegant. The woman saw me and said something to the dog in German
who then went towards me, put his front paws on my shoulders and licked my
cheek. Overcome by emotion I just smiled and moved away to dub away my
own tears.<BR>Although by nature I'm not given to regrets, I sure very much
wish that I had gotten the woman's, and the dog's, name and address.
<BR>Well, they're often in my thoughts and always in my good
wishes.<BR>Regards,<BR>Rosina </FONT></FONT></BLOCKQUOTE></SPAN>
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