How did Mary Baker Eddy feel about animals?

From early childhood Mary Baker Eddy loved animals. And showing that love to them, she often elicited noticeable, affectionate responses.

Eddy once informed Irving C. Tomlinson, a member of her household, that as a girl she nursed baby lambs and chicks, and sang hymns to them at night. Finding a weak farm animal, her father would say, “Here is another invalid for Mary.” Tomlinson noted, “Then Mary would tenderly take her mild-eyed charge and nurse the fleecy little patient to health and strength.” Recalling the time, Eddy said, “I would take the little chicks, that seemed sickly or perhaps dying, into the bosom of my dress and hold them until I heard a fluttering sound and found the chicken active and strong and eager to run away, when I would put it down and away it would run.”¹

As a child, Eddy found that she could give mental commands to the Baker family dog, Ben— and he would obey. Adam H. Dickey recounted this:

An incident illustrating Mary Baker’s unusual mental development as a child is shown in the following. The family had a dog in the house named “Ben,” and when they were assembled in the sitting room the dog was made to understand that he must always lie under the table. Sometimes he would disregard this injunction and would come out and sit before the fire with the family. Eddy said she found out that by mentally addressing the dog he would obey her without her speaking a word aloud. When she saw that Ben was in for trouble, because of his presence in the room, she would mentally say, “Ben, go under the table and lie down,” and immediately the dog would rise and walk under the table and lie down. This, she said, occurred many, many times, and was one of the incidents of her childhood which she always kept to herself.²

Eddy was especially fond of birds. In the reminiscence of Eugenia Fosbery, a student of Laura Sargent (an early student of Eddy’s as well as a worker in her home), there is mention of her having pet canaries named May and Benny. It is recounted that Benny responded strikingly to Eddy’s presence and love, bursting into song.³

In later life, she was very affectionate toward her horses and often able to calm them when they were frightened. There were always horses at her homes in Concord, New Hampshire, and Chestnut Hill, Massachusetts. The horses pulled the carriages in which she regularly took rides, or the sleighs that she occasionally enjoyed in the wintertime. She selected these horses carefully and was very fond of them.

There was a fountain on the lawn at Pleasant View, her home in Concord, that was stocked with goldfish, and Eddy enjoyed feeding them. At times other animals, such as cats and dogs, were also in residence, and she was aware of them.

Eddy did not feel that Christian healing should be limited to sick men, women, or children. In May 1906, a Christian Scientist in the Philippines wrote to her about treating animals and received the following reply:

Your favor is at hand. You have my permission to heal the animals as well as mankind. When I was in practice I healed them and found them responsive to Truth in every instance. God gave man “dominion over the beasts” and we have no authority for supposing that He ever recalled that gift or took away from man his rightful spiritual heritage. Please inform me as to your success.⁴