Animals and Souls

"How can we say that animals don't have souls?"

The cry of that question came from deep within the heart of a caring, and troubled, young man.  He was very much in love with the Faith, but had not yet figured out how to get past this troublesome question.

In "'Abdu'l-Baha in London", we read, "When asked about the individual persistence of the animal's personality after death, 'Abdu'l-Bahá said: 'Even the most developed dog has not the immortal soul of the man; yet the dog is perfect in its own place.'"  You can read more about what He says here (this is yet another clickable word to take you to another wonderful web-site).

I recall reading somewhere that the Master told a lady who was grieving the loss of her pet that the animal would be with her in the next world as long as she needed it.  Despite a search in Ocean, and Googling some key words, I could not find the story anywhere, or else I would quote it, too.

But at that moment, we were sitting in the kitchen, he and I, along with his father, who was an Auxiliary Board member at the time.  Why his father chose to come to my place to seek an answer to this question, I will never know.  It must have been that wily Concourse on High inspiring him, for it was surely not a question I could answer, never having given the answers of the Master on this subject much thought.  But there they were, in my kitchen.

As we sipped our tea, I did the only thing possible in a situation like that: I prayed.  I prayed for him to find the answer he needed to hear, when he asked the question again.

"I mean, we know they have emotions.  They have so many qualities, like caring and love.  How can we say they don't have souls?"

"Because they don't," came the voice from the other room.

We all stared at each other.  I had thought my other friend in the house was asleep on the couch.  He had been staying with me for a few days, and often slept at that time of the day.  I'm not even sure my other guests knew he was there.  And yet his voice rang out from the wilderness.

"They have an animus," he said.

"A what?"  I'm not sure which of us asked the question, but I am certain we were all thinking it.

"An animus."  Bob sat up as we came into the living room and he proceeded to give the most lucid explanation I had ever heard on this subject.  He described the soul as a rainbow, with its full colour spectrum.  An animus, he said, was more like line spectra.

A spectroscope, he explained, splits coherent light into its colour components, like a prism.  Different elements show up different lines, like the image below, of a neon line spectra.

You can see that there are only certain lines visible in what would, if filled in, obviously be part of a full rainbow spectrum.  This shows what the element is, to one who understands how to read it.  Myself?  I'm illiterate in this area.

My friend explained that each wavelength is like what Baha'is would call an "attribute of  God".  As he is not a Baha'i, he took the extra step of "translating" what he was saying into the language we would understand.  Every animal shows some of the attributes of God, just like everything in creation "is a direct evidence of the revelation within it of the attributes and names of God..."  Only in the human soul, however, do we see the full spectrum revealed.


We spoke about how some animals show their lines so brightly, such as a puppy showing enthusiasm, or a spider in her web showing patience, that they stand out clearer than they do in most humans.  We spoke about how we can sometimes see those virtues more clearly in their isolation, just as we can see the lines in the above image more clearly than if they were "lost" within the full context of the rainbow.

For over an hour the Auxiliary Board member and I listened as the two of them spoke to each other.  Questions were explored between them, neither presuming to have all the answers, but both eager to learn from the other, as all of us were lifted to a greater understanding of how we perceive the world around us.

Needless to say, my young friend has become not only confirmed in his faith, but has gone on to become an ardent supporter of the Cause, serving in many admirable capacities in the past few years.  His father, of course, still remains a pillar of the community.

And Bob, well, he went back to sleep on the couch and still comes to my aid when people come over and need questions answered.  He now lives in a room in the house, instead of just on a couch.  I guess the Councourse on High knew what they were doing, after all.