Many people are puzzled how anyone could love bacteria, fungi, germinating seeds, rats, or mice sufficiently to pray for them.   This attitude is quite widespread, even among devout practitioners of prayer.  I recently received a letter from a woman in Italy.  Her cat had been run over by an auto and was paralyzed in its hind limbs.  When she asked the local friars if they would pray for her cat's healing, they told her it was fruitless to pray for animals because they don't have souls and could not respond to prayer.  She was heartbroken to consider that her beloved cat was outside the reach of prayer. It is paradoxical that this opinion originated not far from Assisi, the home of St. Francis, who would probably have been appalled at the discriminatory attitude of the modern friars toward animals. 

Susan J. Armstrong, Professor of Philosophy and Women's Studies at Humboldt State University, has extensively examined these questions in a provocative essay, "Souls in Process:  A Theoretical Inquiry into Animal Psi." She notes that Pope John Paul II has recently reaffirmed the early Christian doctrine that animals have souls, which presumably implies that they are fit subjects for prayer.  She notes, "In a homily at the Vatican in 1989 the Pope quoted Ps. 104, in which animals are said to have the breath of life from God, and called for 'solidarity with our smaller brethren.' "

Still, the use of nonhumans in prayer studies remains a stumbling block for many people.  Yet other cultures are not as troubled on this point.  I have visited temples in India dedicated to the worship of rats, in which people pray for these creatures and lovingly offer them food.  For their part, the rats seem appreciative.  If this practice seems bizarre, we might bear in mind that we also worship mice in our culture without realizing it.  The major icon of the Disney empire is a mouse.  Each year, millions of American families undertake expensive pilgrimages to two major shrines -- Disneyland and Disneyworld -- to express their devotion.  And every night, thousands of American children offer bedtime prayers that their parents will reward them with a visit to the Magic Kingdom, whose ruler is a small rodent.

Part of the resistance to praying for animals in formal experiments is due to the growing gulf between animals and humans that has developed with increasing urbanization.  When America was more rural, prayer for animals was widespread and seemed natural.  I grew up on a farm in Texas; and although we never prayed for mice or bacteria, we prayed incessantly for cows, pigs, horses, germinating seeds and growing plants, as do farmers worldwide.  Even in urban America, millions of vegetarians feel so intimately connected with animals that they find it unthinkable to eat them.  Many pray and work diligently for the welfare of animals and for the preservation of endangered species.  Many veterinarians consider it quite natural to pray for their patients. I have attended churches in the United States who help place homeless animals, and which feature "pet prayer" as part of the worship program.  Therefore, the feelings of compassion, love, and bondedness toward nonhumans, although highly variable, are nonetheless widespread, and support the idea that the power of prayer can be studied experimentally in nonhumans and humans alike.